


Ill Met By Walford

by Basmathgirl



Category: Doctor Who (2005), EastEnders
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Actors, Crossover, Eventual Sex, F/M, Smut, Soap Opera, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-03-20 10:01:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3646101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basmathgirl/pseuds/Basmathgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In an AU, Donna Noble and John Smith are desperately trying to hide their crush, but the soap opera fates have other ideas for them. [For the prompt: we’re actors on a popular TV series and our two characters weren’t written to be a couple, but the fans are salivating over our onscreen “chemistry”, and now the director decided to change the script to add more sexual tension - how the hell am I supposed to keep my <i>off screen</i> crush hidden now?] Rating upgraded to Mature due to the content in chapter 4. [Rating upped from Mature because of chapter 9]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [develish1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/develish1/gifts).



> **Disclaimer:** I do not own any of these characters, be they from Doctor Who or EastEnders; but I can wish.  
>  **A/N:** fortunately you won't have to have any knowledge of EastEnders in order to follow this (hopefully).

Donna Noble carefully considered the script in her hands. They wanted her to do what?! Immediately she stormed over to the director to give him a piece of her mind.

“Oi, you! Dougie! Since when did you turn into Hitchcock and wanted to torture us all?” she demanded to know. 

“Is something wrong, Donna?” Dougie asked as pleasantly as he could, knowing full well that this tirade was coming. “Did you spot the addition in your script?”

“Addition!” she near shrieked. “Is that what they call adding in soft porn these days, is it? When I joined the cast of EastEnders I never thought I’d end up with a bedroom scene with Simon DuBuerre. What is the world coming to when every single unattached woman is practically thrown into his bed?”

“Donna, please,” he calmly began to explain. “As you know, your character of Maggie Postlethwaite was supposed to stay as the comedy relief in this latest story and undeclared queen of the laundromat, supporting Shirley after she attempts to burn down the Queen Vic; but the viewer feedback we’ve been getting about those scenes between you and John…”

“Where we cleaned the flat together?” Donna tried to clarify in confusion, not meaning to interrupt.

“The very ones,” Dougie gleefully agreed. “Yes, we’ve had thousands of people phone in and write to say how much they enjoyed those bits.”

“But all we did was wear rubber gloves and drink tea,” she reasoned, still not believing this was happening.

“Exactly!” he declared. “And all with so much chemistry you could almost cut the sexual tension in the air with a knife.”

“Oh!” She furrowed her brow in thought, as every unwanted thought she’d been having since that scene was shot was hurriedly dampened down. “If you want to keep the sexual tension, why put in a bedroom scene? I don’t get it.”

Dougie placed a condescending arm around her shoulders. “Because, dearie, we can have an almost happens but not quite sex scene between the two of you; and it’ll help push up the ratings while we have you two dilly dallying around each other.”

This was all good, in that she’d get more lines than usual, a heck of a lot more, but could she cope with it all? “What does John think of all this?” she finally asked.

There was an extremely brief guilty smirk on Dougie’s face. “He won’t know until he comes back from makeup.”

‘This should be fun,’ she thought. “I’ll erm… I’ll just be over here learning my new lines until he does then,” she announced, and walked over to the nearest chair to sit herself down and watch the upcoming drama. One thing she knew for sure was that John Smith would NOT be pleased with this change in the script. The man had very little time for her, and barely said a word in her direction unless he had to. 

Mere seconds later, John appeared with a carefully applied false cut to his lip, his dark brown hair suitably ruffled, and the nearest runner for the EastEnders crew handed him a script. “Here’s what Dougie mentioned to you. There have been a few changes to your later scene with Ronnie,” he was told as he started to flick through the pages.

“What!” he squawked about three pages in, and desperately looked around for Dougie. “Dougie, where are you?! You piece of shit!” Instead he spotted Donna sitting with her own script in her hands. “Have you seen this?!” he cried.

She nodded in sympathy. “I have. Apparently you won’t be seducing Ronnie Mitchell after all. And you’re not even getting her sister.”

His eyes were wide in terror. “No, instead I’ll be…” He visibly gulped. “…You.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” she consoled him, hating the look of horror on his face. “I can go and ask them to give me a blonde wig, if you like, then you can pretend it’s really Samantha with you in the bedroom later. Or ask for Dot Cotton’s iconic overall and hairnet from the laundromat to wear; it all depends what turns you on.” 

She’d meant it as a joke, but his face turning a bright crimson in embarrassment made her wonder if she had hit the proverbial nail on the head. 

“Thanks,” he stammered, “but there’s no need. You’ll be fine as you are.” He then lifted up the new script in his hands as though she didn’t have one. “Have you got to the part where we… yet? What exactly will you be wearing?”

“A Snorkel and diving boots, obviously,” she jested. “I’m not sure,” she then admitted, “it doesn’t say. But I do know that we don’t actually have sex, if that’s any help; we just get as close to it as they’ll allow, for now.”

“That’s erm… that’s interesting,” he conceded, nodding his head. 

Although he wasn’t quite sure what he was confirming as he stood dumbfounded before her. She was his goddess. She with the vibrant hair, luscious lips, and witty humour that had melted his heart the first time he had ever seen her in the flesh, as it were. And he was being given the opportunity to be finally noticed by her; alas he just wasn’t worthy, in his opinion, of her attention. Did she even suspect that he had a major crush on her? He had tried so hard to hide it since he had joined the cast of EastEnders. 

Every day he had prayed that he would be given a scene with her, any scene, no matter how brief, and here they were being given what might be a major storyline together. That’s if he didn’t make a right pig’s ear of it and ruined his chances. 

Then she spoke, breaking him out of his wandering thoughts. “Do you want to read through the new lines with me while you wait for your lip scene?”

‘Lip? What lip?’ he instantly wondered before he realised what she meant, and he touched the special effects makeup that adorned his upper lip. “That would be… erm… yes,” he answered.

‘Good grief, will he always react this way around me?’ she asked herself as he stood looking as though he would rather be anywhere else but near her. So much for onscreen chemistry, huh?! “Sit yourself down, and we’ll have a brief read-through; and I promise not to bite you. Wouldn’t want whatever that is on your lip to get me, for a start.” She smiled then, hoping he’d get the joke, but he carried on looking serious.

If only he could apply that lip and its mate all over her mouth, but apparently that would have to wait until later in their onscreen relationship. So John sat himself obediently down beside her and they read through the upcoming scene. 

 

“Ah, I see you have the new script,” Dougie announced as he reappeared in front of them. “We’ll have a run through after lunch and then we’ll get to the real nitty-gritty. Any questions? No? Good!” he proclaimed as John spluttered but said nothing. “Wardrobe shouldn’t keep you for too long.”

“Hang on!” Donna called after him as he tried to walk away from them. “You still haven’t told us how long this affair that might not be an affair will go on for.”

“Haven’t I?” Dougie airily answered. “It all depends how well this scene is received by the viewing public. Now come on, John. Time for you gain that lip injury.”

“I’ll see you later, Casanova,” Donna murmured to John, and forced herself to give him a cheeky wink. 

Once she was left on her own again she started to fret how she would continue to hide this stupid crush she had on John. Had it shown up when they’d done that flat cleaning scene? Please say it hadn’t. She consoled herself that the public had liked it. But what if she made a complete prat of herself if they actually had to fake shag each other? At least she couldn’t show herself up by physically responding in a visible way, she supposed.

Funnily enough, John’s thoughts ran along similar lines; knowing that his physical response could be eternally shaming. It didn’t stop him revisiting that possible future scene quite often in later days. 

 

Hours later they were both in costume and awaiting their sexual tension scene with much trepidation. 

“Think: shock,” Dougie directed them as they stood on set outside the scenery that contained the bedroom within Simon’s flat. “This is just a normal day; Maggie has had her morning shower before heading for her friend’s bedroom to get dressed but goes into Simon’s by mistake. We want lots of shock, secret ogling, the reaction and then you running out.”

Both of them nodded to confirm they had heard him; and the next thing they had to do was remove their dressing gowns in order to do the scene.

“I think you should take the gowns off separately,” Dougie thoughtfully decided, as he contemplated them, “so that we get a genuine shocked reaction from you both.” He then turned and yelled out, “First places, please, people!”

“Good luck,” Donna mouthed at John before he moved.

“You too,” he equally silently mouthed back, and then took his position on the other side of the door to her. 

The wardrobe removed his dressing gown to reveal him wearing just a pair of dark trousers, but shirtless and sockless. He’d thanked God that he hadn’t been made to stand in only his boxers, because this way his reaction to Donna’s bare shoulders would be contained. And a part of him wanted to store this away for later consumption too. 

Flexing his muscles to warm his body up, all he could do was anticipate what would happen next. Little did he know that that chest of his was already gaining some admiring looks from the crew.

On the other side of the door, wardrobe and makeup were busier dealing with Donna. The fit of the costume upon her figure had to be just right. A bottle of warm water was sprayed all over her upper body to simulate her post-shower state, the ends of her long ginger hair flicked into a pleasing shape, and her dressing gown was completely removed to reveal her wearing a matching set of bra and knickers; the brand of which was clearly one attainable from any high street in the land. Her character was a woman of the people, after all.

“Action!” was called out.

So Donna suitably swung in through the bedroom door and stumbled right into the waiting figure of John.

“Simon!” she squealed as her eyes went straight to his hairy lean chest and her hands landed on those impressive upper arms of his. For a brief second she was overwhelmed by the feel of his warm bare skin under her fingertips, the after shave wafting up from his close proximity despite the makeup that been applied to him, that so much yearned for flesh was suddenly on offer for her to contemplate; but especially how handsome and sexy he looked.

“Maggie?!” he cried as he took some milliseconds to rake his eyes over her curves, enjoying the swell of her breasts and the flow of her hips beneath her skimpy undies as beads of water cascaded downwards to emphasise all the goodness being offered up to him on a plate; right before his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her body flush to his skin. So much enticing freckled skin was in his tender grasp. If he flexed his fingers he could convince himself it was really happening, that she was standing with him, undressed and in his bedroom; even if it wasn’t really a bedroom and there were at least twenty people standing watching them in that precise moment. Fortunately his keen acting skills kicked in. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought this was Shirley’s room. I’m so sorry,” Maggie stammered. “Whatever must you think of me?” She glanced coyly away.

Simon was still holding on to her, and seemed reluctant to let go. She may be acting all shy but those eyes of hers were clearly giving him the come on. “That’s alright, Treacle,” he said with clear delight and confidence. “Why don’t you stay for a while and find out with me? I can’t let a naked woman go to waste.”

Maggie stepped back from him and slapped his face, but there wasn’t much venom in it. “Who do you think you are? George Clooney? Get your grubby mitts off me.”

“I think you like my mitts on you,” Simon smirked, leaning forward.

“Urgh!” Maggie huffed at him and walked hastily away, leaving Simon still grinning to himself knowingly.

“Cut!” someone yelled, and Dougie rushed up, all beaming smiles.

“Was that alright?” Donna came back into shot to ask. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” she anxiously asked John.

“No, I’m fine,” he confirmed, and reached out to pull her towards him. “Come here, you must be freezing, being all wet like that.” Making the most of this opportunity to gain skin to skin contact, he held her within his loose embrace; rubbing her body in a vain attempt to give her some warmth. 

“I am,” she agreed, wrapping her arms around his waist in return, pleased for once that wardrobe hadn’t immediately rushed up with the dressing gowns. Being within his strong arms was heavenly; and something she’d all too willingly do again.

They continued to stand like that together despite wardrobe trying to cover them up by putting their dressing gowns back on; whilst Dougie praised them for the scene. 

 

“The rushes were wonderful!” Dougie later announced to them both, when they were dressed again. “It looks like we may be doing some more of this in the future.” He rubbed his hands together with glee. “I can hardly wait to get to your sex scene.”

Both Donna and John risked a glance at each other as this news sunk in. More close proximity, more bare flesh for only them to see, more chances to press enticingly up against each other. This opened up all sorts of possibilities for them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** this part was specially written for [fansquee](http://fansquee.livejournal.com) to wish her a brilliant birthday!! :D

“Darlings!” Dougie had greeted both Donna and John the day after their underwear party meeting had been broadcast. “The viewer reaction was superb! You should see the log sheets for people phoning in to say how pleased they are.”

“Great!” John had enthused as Donna nodded. “So…erm… what happens next.”

“Ah,” Dougie enigmatically answered while tapping his nose knowingly. “We have plans for the pair of you.”

“Can hardly wait,” Donna muttered under her breath. This situation continued to have its good and bad points.

The good points included John often attaching himself to her by joining her at lunch and any other meal when off set. He’d argued that they needed to get to know each other better in order to ramp up the UST, and who was she to disagree with him. But the bad points seemed to involve her character, Maggie, doing an awful lot of annoying sighing from afar, despite Donna fighting this decision.

On one such day she was sitting perusing the latest script when John suddenly plonked himself down into the chair beside her, and offered up a cheeky grin.

“I dunno why you look so pleased with yourself,” she grouched, “you’ve just been chatting up the new girl. What was her name again? Mika or something.”

“Michaela,” he corrected. “And yes, I have been chatting her up, but Simon is only practising. He’s still deeply in love with you… I mean… Maggie.”

“Says you,” she scorned. “It’s nothing but misplaced lust on his part.”

“Honestly, it isn’t,” he hastily denied. “Say what you like, Donna, but Simon and Maggie were made for each other.”

“In a mother and child sort of a way, no doubt,” she denied. “Anyway, what are you doing today as part of our Trail of the Lonesome Pine?”

He opened his script to double check, and briefly read a few lines. “I’m buying a brand shirt from off the market.”

“Sexy! Because we all know the best shirts can’t be found up West,” she laughed. “I’m doing a bit of gazing out the window at you, and denying it to Shirley.”

“Simon is a very classy sort of guy,” he retorted. “No doubt it will be an extremely sexy number.”

“In rampant polyester,” she joked. “I’d slip off that a treat.”

“You can slip off my body any time you like, Treacle,” he jested in return, and got swatted on the arm for it.

“Careful, you,” she lightly warned, “I’ve got a promised makeover for Maggie coming up, at the hands of Shirley. Who knows, they might extend my wardrobe beyond velour trackies and those awful hairbands.”

“I can live in hope,” he murmured as his eyes rose to take in her lush long ginger hair that hung pleasantly around her shoulders. Why the wardrobe department kept forcing her to tie it up in such horrible ways was beyond him at times. Such loveliness should always be on show. “Any idea what sort of outfit they’re going to be putting you in?”

She instantly burst into laughter at his keen expression. “Don’t get your hopes up too far, love. I seriously doubt it will be anything as alluring as you’re imagining.”

“How do you know what I’m thinking of?” he asked defensively.

“I’m picturing high heels, silk stockings, and a little number with lace, bows, boned to pull in the waist and secured with ribbons at the back,” she told him. “How close am I?”

He gave a nervous cough. How the….? “Pretty close,” he admitted, adjusting his collar as his face flushed. “Do you think we could arrange all that?”

“Not likely,” she replied with amusement. Who’d have thought, eh? “Maggie Postlethwaite is a very down to earth sort of woman, remember.” 

Cautiously looking around first to see if anyone was close enough to overhear, he leaned in to quietly say, “Who’s to say what sort of kinky garb Maggie would dress up in? If she knows her onions then she’d know the best way to a man’s libido is to… erm… provide a suitable visual stimulus.”

“And you, Simon DuBuerre, are a complete and utter tart!” she leaned in dangerously to retort. The danger being that she was now within centimetres of his tempting lips, and she really didn’t want to pull away. 

Those eyes of his smouldered as he regarded her as he yearned to take things further. Oh how he wanted to take possession of her mouth, right then and there. He didn’t care who might be watching or what the consequences would be. All he could think of was kissing those luscious lips of hers. “Are you in the mood for some tart?” he quipped instead. 

God! He’d be the death of her at this rate, flirting like this. There were times that she wished he wasn’t such a damned good actor and actually meant all this. “I’ll have to consult my script, but I’m sure nothing remotely like that happens until page fifty eight.”

“Then roll on page fifty eight,” he huskily whispered, still keeping their gaze locked together. “If you’re really good, I’ll wear the leather thong for you.” 

“Promises promises,” she attempted to deride him, but it was a pretty futile attempt, she had to admit. “But I will be checking whether or not you are wearing that leather thong you keep trying to tempt me with.”

“Any time, Treacle,” he said with a satisfied grin. “Come to my dressing room and I can demonstrate its uses for you.”

He adored the crimson glow that spread up from her throat, and longed to follow its path with his tongue.

“I think I know how dressing rooms work. Come to think of it, I also know how knickers work by now, but thanks for the offer,” she teased, and loved the look of fond amusement on his face. 

“As I said, any time,” he practically purred, “and my dressing room comes with all sorts of mutual benefits. But if you fancy showing me your knickers, I’d love to find out how they really work.”

That was it; she couldn’t hold in her disbelief any longer, and she howled with laughter. “That part of the script is brilliant,” she praised when she stopping giggling. “You really do Simon well at the drop of a hat.”

Sitting back from her, he granted, “I do. But it doesn’t always work on female company.”

Her eyes sparkled with merriment. “If it says so in the script, then that’s what’ll happen.”

Nodding in agreement, he couldn’t wait for the relevant page to appear in the script. “Then very soon, Maggie Postlethwaite, you will be mine,” he seductively vowed, and grinned with satisfaction. 

‘Yes please!’ was her answering thought, but she couldn’t let him know that. Instead, she managed to force out a snort of derision and then deliberately goaded him by pondering, “How do you know it won’t be the other way around and you’ll be mine, Simon DuBuerre?” 

His stomach lurched with desire. “The script,” he breathlessly replied, and would have said more but the assistant director approached them at that point and ushered him back onto the set.

From his position on the other side of the sound stage, Dougie had been watching them and couldn’t have more pleased if he tried. This idea of putting Maggie and Simon together was looking even more promising as time went on. Now how long should he keep them apart before that inevitable sex scene? If he wasn’t careful those two would jump into bed and spoil all this lovely unresolved sexual tension. He made a note to discuss it with the writer as soon as possible.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I had to sit and wait well over two hours yesterday for my car to be done, and this is how I filled my time. I have more planned, btw, and I'm dedicating this chapter to [allons-y--spaceman](http://allons-y--spaceman.tumblr.com).

Donna held her breath in anticipation. This was it; the start of her longed for big scene was coming up, and she was raring to go. ‘Just bring it on,’ she thought as she waited for her cue.

Dougie flagged her on, and she was confronted by her best friend in EastEnders, Shirley Carter.

“’Ere, Shirl, what are you playing at?” Maggie Postlethwaite demanded to know as she gazed at her friend accusingly when she entered her bedroom and saw her standing there. “Are you trying to set me up?”

The wardrobe door was festooned with several hangers holding various outfits, all made from loud fabrics, metallic silver, leopard print, and florescent pink. 

“Has my room become the store room for Stacey’s market stall?”

“No, Mags,” Shirley insisted, pushing Maggie to sit down onto the bed. “This is the start of your makeover.”

“What makeover?” Maggie suspiciously wondered. “And who said I wanted it?”

“Me,” Shirley firmly stated, and reached over to remove the elastic monstrosity holding Donna’s hair in place. “It’s your birthday and I am taking you out on the razz, whether you like it or not, so shut your gob.”

“Charming!” Maggie huffed, despite being quietly pleased. “So what’s involved in this makeover?”

Shirley grinned with delight. She knew she had already won her friend around to the idea. “Kim is going to come over in a minute to do your makeup and hair, then we’ll pick a suitable outfit, thanks to Stacey, for you to wear, and then…,” she said, giving Maggie a playful push on the shoulder, “we are going to the nightclub for a few drinks and a bit of a dance. How does that sound?”

“I dunno,” Maggie cautiously admitted. “I don’t usually do this sort of thing.”

“That’s the whole bleeding point we’re doing this for your birthday, you soppy cow,” Shirley laughed. “We have to celebrate it, don’t we? And who knows, you might pull a bloke for once.”

“I don’t need a bloke,” Maggie modestly insisted. 

“Yes you do,” Shirley countered, picking up a particularly flimsy dress on a hanger. “We all need a little love and attention on our birthday.” She noticed the frown on her friend’s face as she held the dress up against her body, and totally mistook her disgust with it for something else entirely. “If you’re worrying about Simon, don’t. I made sure I found out that he won’t be in the club tonight.”

“He won’t?” Maggie forlornly echoed. “That’s fine then,” she consoled Shirley as her own hopes withered.

A loud knock interrupted their conversation.

“That’ll be Kim,” Shirley announced. “You stay right there.” With that, she rushed off to let Kim in, leaving a bemused Maggie still sat on the bed; her hair hanging bedraggled around her shoulders.

“Cut!” shouted Dougie and he beamed at them with pride. “Well done Linda and Donna. Onto the hair and nails scene next, ladies.”

Letting Linda go off to chat to Tameka, who played Kim, Donna sidled up to Dougie’s side. “Have you decided on the final outfit yet?” she asked him warily, eyeing the assorted outfits on display on the set. She’d already mentally chosen the least hideous one, but she desperately hoped that they’d offer her something else entirely.

“Wardrobe will be down in a minute to walk you through it all,” Dougie assured her before turning to both Linda and Tameka. “You’ve got a break of ten minutes and then we’ll do the scene where you two, Shirley and Kim, plot together.”

They both nodded their agreement, and then sauntered off to grab a quick cup of tea while they could. It was almost 11am, after all, so time for a well-deserved break.

 

Donna was gently blowing on her tea, in an effort to cool it down, when John appeared by her side, looking as though he was auditioning for a part in Scooby Doo.

“How’s the transformation going?” he whispered conspiratorially. 

She huffed and pointed at her face. “Do I look any different?”

You look as beautiful as always, he wanted to say, but he bit back on the words. Maggie looked the same as ever but her hair was finally hanging loose; free of that medieval contraption they normally made her wear. “Not really,” he forced out, “apart from the hair. Are they leaving it like that?”

“Gawd knows,” she sighed. “Any suggestions what I should ask for, if they give me a choice?”

“Hmmm.” He eyed her intensely, moving closer to examine her hair while making the most of breathing in her scent. Feeling courageous, he risked fingering a lock of her hair. “It would be lovely if they left it long like this,” he thoughtfully considered, “but if they put it in wavy ringlets that would look divine.”

“Divine?” she breathily queried as he seemed to lean in nearer still. “Not up in a chignon?”

“That would be lovely too, then I’d get the opportunity to undo it all and let it fall around your shoulders.”

“I haven’t got the glasses to do the whole ‘Oh Miss Jones’ thing,” she nervously joked as the distance between them grew smaller still.

“I’m sure we could provide some,” he practically purred as he enjoyed flirting with her. “All the more for me to take off you. I’d be nice and slow.”

“Would you now.” She quirked an eyebrow at him. “What makes you think I’d let you?”

“Oh, you’ll be begging me to remove all your clothing and screaming my name by the time we’re finished.”

“Will you be that horrific?” she countered, fighting to not fall under his spell.

“You will be in ecstasy,” he clearly enunciated and then brought his tongue up to sweep along the back of his top teeth as though he could already taste her body. “And so will I.”

The careful spell he had woven was broken by the girl from wardrobe calling across, “Sorry to interrupt your important little chat but we need you to try on some outfits.” It was more of a demand than a request.

“Got to go, Romeo,” Donna dismissed herself, rather reluctantly. But duty called and she got to flirt with him later in the script.

 

The episode continued on with them cleverly not revealing exactly what Maggie looked like in her birthday outfit. Just vague close ups of her feet walking in fancy high heels or a zoomed out shot of the club filled with people mingling and dancing, but no clear defining image of her. No, that was to be the saved as the climax for the final scene of the episode; colloquially known as ‘getting the doof doof’.

Simon had got back to the club earlier than he had planned, having had his business arrangements postponed. So he curiously made his way through the throng of people, looking to see if he could recognise anyone other than Shirley, since he fancied some company, when he accidentally stepped back and trod on someone.

“I’m awfully sorry,” he quickly apologised and turned to grab the person in question to stop them toppling over. “Maggie!” he gasped out in surprise when he saw the vision he was holding onto.

DOOF DOOF DE-DO-DO-DO-DO-DOW-DOO

The camera panned back to show the full effect of her glamorous appearance; then the episode ended. But they carried on with the scene in order to start the next episode. 

“Simon,” Maggie equally gasped, finding herself instantly interested in him, thanks to the crisp business suit and pristine get up. “I’m fine.”

“Why are you here?” Simon asked, not letting go. “We don’t normally see you down here or anywhere except the Queen Vic or the café.”

She bit her lip nervously and averted her gaze. “I know. It’s my birthday. Shirley thought it’d be a good idea to come out and celebrate.” 

“A very good idea,” he agreed, sweeping his gaze appreciatively over her body. “You look lovely.” Simon then leaned in to whisper into her ear above the din of the club, “I’ve got some champagne cooling in my office. Why don’t we go and start celebrating your birthday together in style?”

Maggie beamed with delight. “That sounds lovely, thanks. Yes, why not.” She then called across to Shirley, who was now wrapped around a bloke, “I’m going for a birthday drink with Simon!”

Shirley smugly grinned triumphantly at Simon holding possessively onto her friend Maggie, just as she’d planned. “You go, girl! Enjoy yourself. I’m going back with whatshisname here so I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ve already arranged for you to go into work later so that you can have a nice lie in.”

“You’re the best, Shirl!” Maggie enthused, and she was then led away by Simon.

“Did Shirley say she wouldn’t be back tonight?” Simon queried as he guided Maggie towards his office at the rear of the club. “This gets better and better. Let’s take the bottle of champagne home to the house with us instead,” he leered, “then we can really party together.” Opening the door for Maggie to pass through, he added, “We shall have a very happy birthday.”

The scene ended, leaving John and Donna staring at each other on set. It meant that the afternoon schedule led up to their much anticipated sex scene.

“Did I step on you? I hope I didn’t really,” John blurted out as he fought to find something meaningful to say. She looked stunning in a short vibrantly pink and shimmering shift dress that exposed her long shapely legs and impressive cleavage. Her hair had been set in soft waves that framed her face perfectly. Of course they’d given her nails that any fashionable witch would have been proud of; but that was Kim’s style. What took his breath away was the smoky makeup that made her look so sultry and sexy. It was all he could do to not launch himself at her then and there.

“What do you think of the dress?” Donna asked, pulling at the neckline nervously. “I wasn’t sure about the colour. And it’s a little bit short… okay, extremely short,” she added, now pulling down the bottom hem.

Well, that was his cue to feast his eyes on her again, so he willingly took the opportunity. “The dress is lovely,” he finally stated, much to her relief. “And you are…” His words faltered then.

Worried, she encouraged him to continue. “I’m what?” She was in no way prepared for what he said.

“You’re beautiful,” he hastily whispered as Dougie rapidly approached them. 

“Darlings!” Dougie enthused. “That was perfect,” he praised them, wrapping an arm around each of their shoulders and squeezing tight. “Exactly the correct level of anticipating promise. Now this afternoon we’ve set aside some extra time to get your sex scene just right, so you are not to worry about getting it in the can first go. Are we clear? Good! Now run along and have some lunch, darlings, and hurry back all sexually frustrated, if you can.” 

That should be easy, John thought as he confidently smiled back. “We’ll be ready. Won’t we, Donna?”

She was privately lamenting that she was going to be spending the whole dinner hour dressed as a tart rather than be allowed to go and change. “Oh yes,” she equally gushed, and did her best to smile equally brightly too.

John suddenly wrapping his arm around her waist in moral support certainly helped. As did the fact that she could wallow in the scent of his after shave for a bit longer. He certainly smelt _really_ good! 

“Right ho!” Dougie exclaimed with joy. “There’s a Cornish pasty with my name on it, so I shall see you both later.”

 

By the time they were filming the seduction scene, Donna had grown used to wearing the dress and wasn’t pawing at it cover her assets up more at every available opportunity. Although the wardrobe mistress had told her off for doing so on at least three occasions. John, the smug bastard, had merely laughed at her predicament as though he were enjoying it. Which he secretly was. What other job can you get up close and personal with the woman you have a massive crush on, and get paid for it too? No, he was in an extremely good mood.

“More champagne, Maggie? It isn’t your birthday every day of the week, remember,” Simon asked as he plied her with drink by waving the bottle enticingly near her.

It actually was sparkling apple juice but the viewing public didn’t need to know that. Why spoil the illusion? 

“You’ll get me tipsy,” Maggie slurred and batted his arm. His jacket had been removed, and she was resisting the urge to tug off his tie too. 

“That is the object of the exercise, my darling,” Simon schmoozed.

“What happened to ‘Treacle’? You call everyone ‘Treacle’,” Maggie questioned as he hugged her to him on the sofa.

“You’re not everyone,” he murmured. “You are extremely special.”

“What, me?” Maggie denied.

“Definitely you,” Simon crooned as he edged his lips nearer to hers. “And now I’m going to make you mine.”

Their lips had the briefest of touches when the assistant director yelled, “Cut!”

Disappointment did not even begin to describe their new mood.


	4. Chapter 4

Dougie rushed over to speak to them before they did anything remotely stupid to ruin all that lovely UST they’d built up! Placing himself between them, he explained their next crucial scene. 

“Let’s have a quick tea break before we move you two on to the bedroom. Now Donna, John will be shirtless and I’ll have him slowly take your dress off. Are you okay with that?”

“Very,” Donna eagerly replied, not wanting to mentally visit that little scenario yet… or again, depending on what your viewpoint was, obviously. Personal fantasies didn’t come into it yet. “Just so that I know, how much flesh will I actually be revealing on set?”

“Oh, I…” Dougie stole a glance towards John who was trying not to seem too enthusiastic, and smirked. “I don’t think there will be too much when we finally broadcast this. It’s a family show, after all, and not soft porn. But there has been discussion between the higher ups whether we ought to do a special adult version on BBC 3 after the usual repeat.”

“Adult,” John echoed as all that could entail flashed through his mind. “Would that mean complete nudity?”

“Yes,” Dougie confirmed, “so we’ll get wardrobe to provide you with some modesty arrangements in a moment, naturally. Don’t want to upset the Mary Whitehouses of this world.” He then smiled triumphantly at them. Oh yes! So much sexual tension between them to exploit. “So get yourselves off to makeup, have those gorgeous little botties of yours prepared for screen time, and we can start the scene.”

What Donna and John didn’t know was that Dougie had given the makeup department strict instructions to keep them separate as they applied the necessary body makeup. Who would want their delight at seeing each other naked for the first time to go to waste? They were both superb actors, but there’s nothing like a little bit of authenticity thrown into the mix. A closed set had been ordered and he was going to let them follow their natural attraction for each other. Dougie would have rubbed his hands together in glee but he didn’t like to tempt fate like that. The scenes weren’t in the can yet. Once they were, then he would have plenty of time to gloat.

 

It had been a long time since Donna had appeared naked in a production. Even then she’d been part of the chorus, amongst many other naked bodies. Normally she was cast as the comedy relief, not the romantic lead, so all of this fuss about her appearance was more than a little unusual. She liked it though, for a change. It might be the one and only time she would get the chance to enjoy such a plot line; whereas John was likely to go on and wallow in such attention for quite a long time.

It was best not to think about when his character moved on to his next conquest, leaving poor Maggie to return to obscurity as a cleaner or occasional barmaid when Tracey wasn’t available. As it was, Maggie had gained her own small following on the internet, and the response she always gained when she participated in their online events was wonderful for the ego. Goodness only knew how John coped with the numerous groupies Simon attracted. One of these days she would ask him, she decided as Rebecca the makeup girl applied foundation to her exposed bare shoulders.

In next to no time at all, she was suitably dressed and back on set to film the lead up to the sex scene. Excitement buzzed through her system, for more than one reason. If this was successful perhaps she’d get cast in such a role again? Who knows, she might become the next Sarah Parrish or Suranne Jones. Stranger things had happened to actresses. 

Both John and Donna had on their dressing gowns, waiting for their final instructions from Dougie.

“Now we want this as sexy as you can possibly make it,” Dougie directed them. “Simon slowly takes off Maggie’s dress, she removes his trousers, climbs onto him, kiss kiss kiss kiss, then under the bedclothes. Just keep going until we tell you to stop; but be creative, people. Convince us that this is what you really want. Let’s see if we can get this in one take. Time means money.”

He turned to walk away and the wardrobe women rushed forward to remove the dressing gowns; leaving Simon wearing only his trousers and Maggie in her former pink dress but with the zip half undone.

John took this last chance to speak to her and he leaned in to whisper into Donna’s ear, “I’m letting you know that I’m really going for it.”

Any trite reply she could have come up with was wiped away by the sight of his bare chest appearing within easy grabbing distance. “Okay,” she mumbled instead.

 

The assistant director double checked with continuity, then placed John’s hand carefully on Donna’s back, right on the pulled down zip before nodding to Dougie to denote their readiness.

“And action!” was called out, and the camera gradually panned in on Simon releasing his hold on the lowered zip.

As directed, John lowered his head until his lips touched Donna’s neck, placing open mouthed kisses onto her tender flesh while she threw her head backwards in ecstasy to give him greater access. The taste of her body makeup rather spoiled the effect for him, but he gamely carried on, slipping his hand beneath the fabric of her dress in order to first caress her lower back and bringing his other hand to join it in order to tackle the clasp of her bra. Thanks to wardrobe’s efforts, it was easy to slide off both items of clothing, to leave her standing in just her knickers and a pair of high heeled shoes.

It was impossible for him not to become aroused by the sight of her revealed assets but again makeup and wardrobe could be blessed for preventing anything embarrassing occurring. Fortunately it was nigh on impossible for him to gain an erection, but his body wanted to respond badly. Having exposed her breasts, he pulled her body flush with his, and he aimed his mouth higher until he could return to kissing her lips.

The silence on set was hypnotic. If she didn’t know any better, Donna would have thought they were all alone in a sea of passion. The only sound was her mouth moving with John’s as they groaned and grunted through each stage kiss. She clasped every inch of him she could reach closer to her, knowing that at any second he was going to guide them over and onto the bed. For now she wasn’t at a height disadvantage, thanks to her four inch heels, but once they were on the bed, it would be all up to John to steer the scene between Simon and Maggie. As his lips met hers yet again, she prayed to every god that might be listening to make this bedroom scene realistic and highly watchable. 

For some bizarre reason it had been decided that it would be unseemly for the audience to see Maggie stripping off Simon’s trousers. Dougie had been quite adamant about it; so once they had slowly manoeuvred themselves the few feet across the room to the bed, the action was stopped, and wardrobe rushed over to undo and remove the item in question.

Donna couldn’t help giggling as the girl stooped to peel off John’s trousers and he allowed her to do so, like an obedient toddler. It all seemed rather surreal and absurd.

John self-consciously smiled at Donna. “Why are you laughing?” he wondered, mildly worried to see her do so.

“Oh, you know,” she replied, waving a hand about in a vague way. “I was just thinking how weird it is for this to happen to Maggie.”

“It’ll get even weirder when we bring out the rubber gloves,” he quietly joked as the wardrobe girl walked away with his trousers.

Laughing together helped them to stay relaxed and then focus as the assistant director got them to climb into the bed and under the light covers. 

Seeing a fleeting moment of apprehension on Donna’s face, John leaned in to whisper a suggestion. “If I get too rough for you, prod me in the calf with your toe. Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” she breathily agreed, hoping against hope that she wouldn’t have to do so. “Ditto; except it’ll be a bit tricky for you to do that, come to think of it.”

That caused him to smirk. “I’ll prod you in the ribs if I need to, but I doubt that I will. I’m more worried about you.”

“You’re sweet. Thanks,” she encouraged him as they took up their starting position in the bed.

She was partially sitting up, held within his embrace, facing each other; but they wouldn’t be in such a position for long. They’d been told to get things hot and bothered as quickly as possible. Now that she had her arms wrapped around his shoulders, she wasn’t keen to let go in a hurry. This was where she had longed to be for quite some time.

The same was true for John, unbeknown to Donna. His little crush on her was spiralling into something much more meaningful for him. If nothing else, this scenario would feed many nights to come in the future weeks and he wanted to store away every single detail. So his arms had held her naked breasts close against his body in any way that he could since they had disrobed. Normally he would have broken away from the actress involved in any sex scene that he filmed to give himself a breather; but not this time. Oh no. that was the last thing he wanted to do. Why race away from heaven, after all? 

“As I said earlier, I’m going to really go for it,” he reminded her, talking low into her ear and sending delicious goose-bumps of anticipation across her skin. 

“Then I will too,” she whispered back. “I’m sure we can pretend this is real.”

His heartrate instantly rose in answer, and he opened his mouth to say something to cheer things along when the floor manager shouted out, “In five, four, three, two, one…. Action!”

This was it. Time to ravish each other until dawn. 

 

Simon and Maggie gazed deeply into each other’s eyes, caressing and stroking skin as they sat beneath the bedclothes. The music in the background had dwindled away, leaving them silently contemplating one another.

Maggie turned her head shyly towards the CD player and commented, “It’s stopped playing.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he huskily replied. “We don’t need that sort of music.”

Her head jerked back to look at him. “Don’t we?”

“Oh no,” he assured her, easing forward to briefly touch her lips with his own. “We can make our own sweet music.”

“Are you sure?” she wondered in a hesitant voice. “I know I’m not your usual type.”

His voice dropped even lower in tone as he sincerely declared, “I want you, Maggie. All I’ve thought about is making love to you; so now that I’ve got you here, I am going to show you how much I care.”

“Really?” she queried, almost allowing herself to believe.

“Really,” he confirmed, practically growling at her. “I am going to wipe every doubting thought from your head,” he boasted as he took gentle possession of her mouth.

His lips tasted hers as his body eased her downwards onto the soft pillows of the bed. It began with tender sweeps but passion quickly grew. He had to delve further, breach the outer limits and glide his tongue with hers, devouring her mouth with relish. 

Even if she had wanted to, she was powerless to resist his onslaught. She pulled him closer, easing her fingers into his hair, scraping her fingernails across his scalp as she absently noted the soft quality of his unruly mane. 

In return, one of his hands combed his fingers through her long tresses before returning to clasp her head in place. The other hand wandered downwards, tantalisingly over her breast to thumb her nipple delicately. She bucked at the sensation, not quite expecting it but enjoying the experience nevertheless. 

That seemed to be his cue to release her mouth and kiss down her throat. Both his hands and mouth moved lower, until he was kissing across each breast, leaving a hot wet trail in his wake as his hands smoothed a path below the elastic of her knickers and over her bottom. 

‘Blimey, when he said he would really go for it he wasn’t kidding!’ she thought as he began to tug down her underwear. Thankfully makeup had anticipated this and prepared her, otherwise she would have been worried. 

It was so easy to squirm with delight beneath him and do exactly the same to him. But there came a point at which they had to break away from full bodily contact, so that there was a flurry of legs shaking off underwear, kicking away the offending pieces of cloth with a mutual whoop of joy before they could resume their previous position; with Simon nestled between Maggie’s thighs.

The bedclothes surged away and off them to reveal Simon’s bare back as they undulated together, hardly breaking from trading their deep passionate kisses, as they simulated making love. A chorus of low groans, shuttering of breath, and vigorous dry humping that loudly rocked the bed below them as it creaked and thumped the wall in rhythm. 

To the side of them, out of sight of the camera, the assistant director visibly counted them down to achieve the scene’s climax, in more ways than one. With a loud shout, John acted Simon shuddering his completion, and then the couple snuggled together in their afterglow; thoroughly happy and sated. 

“Cut!”


	5. Chapter 5

“Ow, ow, ow!” Donna bit out immediately the scene was done.

“What’s the matter?” John sat up desperately to ask. “Did I hurt you?”

“You were lying on my hair,” she supplied, still wincing from the pain. “But it’s alright now; don’t worry.”

He tenderly caressed her cheek in apology. “Why don’t I say sorry properly by taking you out to dinner later once we’ve finished here?”

“Smooth,” commented the lighting assistant sarcastically under his breath as he waved a light meter about near them close to their skin.

Both of them in the bed decided to ignore him, but Donna blushed before answering, “Yeah, why not.”

Well, it wasn’t as though they’d have time to cook that evening, she reasoned to herself. It was taking the crew a fair amount of time to set up the next shot where they filmed exactly the same scene but from a different angle. Fortunately they had the comfort of the bed, and each other to keep warm, should they need that excuse under the hot lights. 

“We need you to try out some different positions from various angles, darlings. We just want close ups of you two kissing passionately, and finishing your encounter,” the assistant director informed them, keeping a deadpanned expression on her face. “We’ll start with Maggie sitting in your lap, then lying down, and then the final climax of the scene. Any questions?”

“No, that’s fine with me,” John commented as he began to guide Donna to sit entwined on the bed. “What about you, Donna?”

“Seems straight forward enough,” she agreed, feeling much more relaxed about this whole business. “Can’t say I get to do this sort of thing very often.”

“Is that in real life or in a script?” John cheekily wondered. He could have stayed there with her wrapped around him for hours. 

“Let’s just that there’s not much call for it,” she admitted, “in any capacity.”

Seizing his chance, he leaned in close to whisper low into her ear, “Any time you like, your wish is my command.”

It was a good job she’d already placed her arms around his shoulders; otherwise she would have fell backwards in shock. It was a pleased shock; but a surprise nevertheless. “Careful. I might hold you to that,” she teased back, and gained a warm smile from him that went much further than her heart.

 

There was a flurry of activity as makeup artists touched up their stage makeup, the set was rearranged for optimum aesthetic-ness, and the bed covers were suitably arranged around their torsos to hide any genitalia or other intimate body parts.

“So... Do you come here often?” Donna joked as she rested in John’s lap, her ankles locked behind his lower back.

“This is only my second time trying this out,” he jested in return. “I could get to like it, I think. Did your invite have the non-dress code too?”

She nodded with delight. “It did. And when in Rome, or rather Walford Square, in this instance..”

“...you go au naturale,” he finished for her. “It’s the in thing this season.”

The assistant director mutely counted them down to restart the scene. As soon as the command “Action!” was called out, John crushed Donna’s body closer so that nothing unaccounted for could be seen. 

“You’ve got beautiful eyes,” Simon breathily gushed.

Why was John going off script, Donna wondered. Not that it mattered, because they had no specific lines for this bit. But still, she didn’t want him ruining the take. Fortunately no one was stopping them yet. 

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” Maggie modestly replied.

His lips hovered temptingly close to hers. “Who needs a girl when they can have a woman like you? Oh Maggie,” he gasped out and took gentle possession of her mouth. “You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this with you.”

“Seconds, minutes, perhaps an hour,” she pretended to guess. She would have said more but the way his tongue was easing into her mouth was making her rather breathless.

He smirked despite himself, in amusement. “More like days, weeks, months. And now I get to wish us both a very happy birthday.”

“Oi, it’s my birthday,” she softly chided between kisses.

“Yes, but we’re celebrating my birthday early, along with Easter and Christmas,” he reasoned.

“That good, huh?”

“Mmmm hmm,” he confirmed before attempting to completely shut her up with fervent sweeps of his lips upon hers.

He attacked her lips with renewed vigour. They devoured each other; all pretence that they wouldn’t take this seriously, as a mere acting job, quickly went out the window. These were real fervent kisses being traded, and the consequential amorous moans and groans were real too, unbeknown to the crew filming it all. 

Their hands caressed paths across skin, along sensitive spines, and into soft hair. The only sound was the passionate smack of their mouths meshing and their gentle undulations together.

All too soon the word “Cut!” was yelled, telling them they were being told to stop, and reposition themselves. They met the attention of the crew feeling a little bit dazed, but they were professionals first and foremost. However, they weren’t disappointed because they still had more kissing to look forward to as they feigned coitus. 

The next position they were encouraged to try out would have Donna straddling him while John lay beneath her; her hands planted on his shoulders. After a short break, it took a couple of people to help her get into the correct place while John was merely ordered to lie down onto the bed covers.

“I’m not sure,” Donna hesitated when they were finally in their next position. “How will I retain my dignity? This is fast becoming a porn shoot.”

“I’ll preserve it for you,” John quickly volunteered. “Normally it’s a pretend fumble under the covers.”

“Not in this instance,” Dougie warned from where he stood beside them. “They want you to try something a little more adult.”

“That’s one way of saying it,” she mumbled under her breath. “I’m just not used to doing this sort of thing.”

“Don’t worry, you’ve got me here,” John cheerily assured her as he contemplated her from below. “This is all new for me too. I’ll make sure no one will take advantage.”

“If you’re sure,” she warily sought confirmation. After his position was changed so that he was lying down with her straddling his hips, the covers tucked around their lower torsos as before, she asked, “How am I going to avoid showing off everything if the camera is in front of me?” It seemed indecent somehow if she actually showed her bare chest.

“How about I do this?” John offered, bringing up his hands to not only cover but to cup her breasts. “That would do it.” Well…. he wasn’t going to complain about doing that for her. The thing against it was the fact he couldn’t really thrust up into her at the same time, otherwise the pleasantness of the whole experience was not to be sniffed at.

Dougie looked pleased. “Yes, my darlings,” he enthused, ignoring the shocked expression on Donna’s face for the time being.

She looked down at herself in surprise. She had never had a pair of hands as a makeshift bra before. It would take some getting used to. “No copping a feel,” she warned.

“Too late,” John whispered, and did his best to grin disarmingly. “Would it be wrong of me to say you have gorgeous boobs?”

“Probably, in the circumstances,” she admitted.

“Then I won’t say a word,” John promised.

His hands were certainly having a conversation all of their own with her chest, she thought, but she kept schtum about it while he stayed on this side of decency.

“Don’t forget, we want passionate,” Dougie reminded them before walking away; and then the countdown started again for the scene to start.

“Oh god, Simon,” Maggie huffed out. She rose slightly and then fell on him. “Oh yes, yes, yes.”

Keeping his hands steadily over her breasts, John moved with her as though he was thrusting upwards. “Come on, Maggie. You can do it,” Simon groaned in encouragement.

This was much easier to pretend it wasn’t real now that they weren’t joined at the mouth. She jolted, jerked, and moved on him unabated for several moments while he did his best to knock her off the bed. It was exhausting, and they soon flagged. Fortunately they were soon stopped.

They both panted as light readings were taken for the final take.

“How would you rate that position?” John risked asking her. “You know, if you were to do this in real life.” He gave a hesitant sniff.

“Well, for a start I wouldn't have you doing an impersonation of an uplifting bra,” she said sarkily.

“Oops! Sorry.” His hands instantly fell away from her assets. “I forgot I had my hands there.”

“Yeah,” she agreed in a way that didn’t agree at all. “I’m sure we’d all do that.” 

But she soon forgave him because he drew her close to conceal her bared chest from the studio crew. The fact that it brought his mouth within kissing distance again was merely an added bonus, she told herself. She almost believed herself too.

“We can’t have you getting cold,” he covered his action by declaring. Would she buy that line? Only time would tell. “You’d go all goosebumpy, and we can’t have that on camera.”

“Definitely not,” she agreed.

 

Their final position was the missionary one that the previously filmed scene had used. Donna flung her head back with abandon into the pillow behind her as John grimaced and bucked above her, once they had changed position and started again; dry humping each other while adding numerous loving kisses. By the end of the sequence they were both buzzing with sexual excitement that had nowhere to go. Not yet, anyway. 

Finally the call was given to end the scene, and they could return to real life and stop being scrutinised so closely by the crew. John licked his lips. His mouth was dry after all that panting; and he wanted to taste her on his skin one last time. 

“That went alright, didn’t it?” he sought to confirm.

Donna nodded. “I think so. I didn’t hurt you when I scraped my nails down your back, did I?”

“No,” he automatically answered. “I’m fine.” 

His hands were still on her bottom, pressing her towards his pelvis, and she hadn’t moved away from him. This situation was looking very promising indeed, he decided.

Dougie raced up to them, almost bouncing with excitement. “Almost done, my darlings. Don’t get changed out of your costumes yet,” he ordered both Donna and John, who had both bodily turned to regard him with their full attention. “I’ve just heard that they are giving the go ahead for an adult version one off special. A photographer is setting up a photoshoot to promote it. Isn’t that terrific?! Come along boys and girls, we need you looking all sexy.”

Wardrobe came forward to help them get ready. 

 

Donna threw an anxious glance at John. It was alright for him, he was used to draping himself all over an actress, but she never posed with anything racier than a mop bucket. “If you say so,” she hesitantly agreed. “Hopefully the photographer will know how to make me sexy in a ‘isn’t really sexy but we’ll pretend anyway’ sort of a way.”

He noted her reticence so John draped a comforting arm around her shoulders. “I’ll show you the way, love. Just keep your eyes on me and you’ll soon be swooning,” he joked.

Inevitably, she swatted his hand resting on her shoulder. “You are so full of yourself! How do you know it won’t be you swooning all over me, huh?”

She only just about managed to hold in a gasp of shock when he leaned seductively in to whisper close to her ear, “Swooning is only the start of what you do to me.”

There wasn’t much of a chance for her to react further before the photographer’s assistant ushered them off set into a room where lights and a backdrop had been rigged up.

“Ah, there you are!” the photographer cheerfully greeted them as they took in the familiar podium set up. “If we could have you on my right, John, and Donna on my left,” she directed them. “What vibe do you want me to create, Dougie?”

“Sexually interested in each other,” Dougie supplied as he shifted closer.

 

The photoshoot for the promo shots had Donna wearing Maggie’s pink dressing gown over her bra and knickers, and John in just Simon’s trousers; thus showing off his fine hairy chest to a tee, just as she had expected. 

She had to pose with a mop and bucket, holding the handle as though it were a stripper’s pole and trying to look sexy by baring a leg as John stood behind her. They did one shot where she held the mop head as though it were a bridal bouquet; they couldn’t help giggling during that one. And finally they posed face to face, gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes.

In next to no time they were told their work day was over and they could get ready to go home.

“Are you still up for that offer of dinner or at least a drink together and perhaps a bite to eat?” John quickly sought to confirm as they headed towards the dressing rooms. He didn’t want to appear too eager, but then again, he would hate to give the impression he was disinterested.

“That would be lovely,” he was gladdened to be told. And there was a renewed spring to his step as he went to change into his own clothing.

Suitably showered, coiffured, and as nervous as a kitten, he rushed to meet Donna in the main foyer for their date. That’s if he was allowed to call it a date... Please let it be a real date, he begged any deity that might be listening to him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** this contains mentions of real EastEnders actors, but you don't need to know who they are except that they are very nice people, you'll be pleased to know.

It was with a certain amount of trepidation that Donna made her way to the studio foyer to meet John. Had she read this wrong and he was merely being friendly? It wasn’t as though he was usually short of attention, and she only played a cleaner who partially ran the laundromat. In many ways they were poles apart.

He noticed the blush on her cheeks and the excited shine in her eyes long before she was close to him. If he wasn’t much mistaken things were going extremely well between them and could lead to all sorts of possibilities. Hopefully some of them would be of the sexual kind if he played his cards right, but any time spent with her would be a bonus.

To her relief he was standing waiting for her, a broad welcoming grin on his face. He looked so handsome as she joined him, and it was easy to return his happy smile. If this was a dream, please don’t wake me up yet, she silently begged. “Hello,” she shyly greeted him.

“Hello,” he just as timidly replied. “Had a nice shower?” he asked as he took the opportunity to cast his eyes all over her body.

It helped that he knew exactly how fit she looked when naked, but those tight hip hugging jeans of hers were showing her legs off wonderfully.

She made a brief noise of ecstasy. “It was wonderful to wash off all that body makeup and get rid of the modesty tape. Just in time, if you get my meaning, because I was busting to use the loo by the time we finished.”

“I know what you mean,” he agreed, stepping much closer to offer any comfort or whatever she wanted in that moment. “That modesty sock was giving me jip.”

Her gaze instantly lowered to his groin. “Any lasting problems?”

“Erm, not that I know of,” he replied, wishing she wouldn’t keep peering at him there. Not for that reason, anyway. “Is there anywhere in particular you wanted to eat?” he wondered, changing the subject.

I could easily start at your throat or… “Erm, no not really,” she answered. “I’ll leave it up to you.”

Careful with that invitation, Donna; I might take it seriously. “I know just the place,” he confidently offered, and indicated for her to walk ahead of him out of the main doors.

Outside there was a little gaggle of fans anxiously waiting for a sighting. 

“It’s him! It’s Simon DuBuerre!” a young female voice shrieked as they stepped out of the studio doors and into the outside air.

John magnanimously stepped forward and took hold of a photo that was almost thrust into his face. It was soon signed with a flourish using a felt tip pen he kept in his jacket pocket for such purposes.

As he continued to be inundated, Donna quietly spoke behind him. “I’ll er… I’d better leave you to it and I’ll meet you later then.”

“What!” John whirled round to halt her retreat. “No, hang on, wait for me. Please. I won’t be long.”

“Aren’t you Maggie Postlethwaite?” one young fan cautiously asked her. When Donna confirmed she was, the girl requested, “Can I have your autograph? My mum loves you.”

What could Donna do except express her thanks and sign the magazine the girl held up. A couple more of them noticed and wanted her signature too, so by the time she had finished, John had also completed his task and was edging away from the fans. 

“There you are!” another actor from the show exclaimed as he walked out through the doors.

Donna easily recognised Shane Richie, but a couple of the fangirls cried, “It’s Alfie Moon! Alfie!”

He waved cheerily at them, signed a few pieces of paper and set his attention onto John and Donna as he did so. “I hope you two haven’t forgotten,” he commented as if he didn’t expect a negative answer. “You can come with me there.”

“His celebratory drink,” Donna whispered to John when he looked at her blankly. “For the play he’s leaving us to do.”

“Oh yes!” he mumbled in realisation. He’d clean forgotten; and apparently so had Donna for a while. Did that mean she was as distracted as him by the thought of their date? Their date which seemed to be well onto its way of being hijacked by a leaving do.

Shane good-naturedly ushered them into his waiting car, and they soon sped away, heading towards a pub room Shane had privately booked near his home. As they travelled, Shane told them all about his project, and exchanged memories of things on set, making them laugh together. It wasn’t too bad until he asked them about the scenes they had shot that day.

“A sex scene? Woo hoo hoo!” Shane laughed in glee. “I bet that was awkward, considering.”

“Considering what?” John wondered defensively. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m just saying that you and the lovely Donna here are…” Shane was stuck for the right words, and felt anxious eyes on him. “Well, you know what I mean,” he blustered, now concerned that they weren’t aware how they acted around each other. “You play such different people.” Should he nudge them further together? “Have you ever considered doing some rehearsals together, away from the set? I think you should. It’d give you a chance to get to know each other better, feel more comfortable when you do those bedroom scenes. I mean, look at me and Jessie. We’ve done loads of stuff now, and are like brother and sister.” Oops! He hadn’t meant to put it quite like that, seeing as him and Jessie played husband and wife, so he immediately nodded kindly in encouragement.

“That makes sense,” John agreed, finding himself nodding along. “What do you think, Donna?”

“I suppose so.” Donna was doing her very best not to look too eager at this suggestion. After all, Shane and Jessie played soulmates, so of course they’d have to be a lot more comfortable around each other on set, whereas she and John were merely lovers embarking on a brief affair, as far as she knew. It could all be over tomorrow. Once they’d filmed the final part of their bedroom scene, that is. “Okay,” she tried to say decisively.

“That’s settled then,” Shane ended the topic of conversation. “Here we are,” he added as their car drew up to the pub doors, “don’t forget, the drinks are on me. But if you want to buy me champagne, I won’t stop you.” He threw them a cheeky grin just before climbing out of the car, deliberately leaving it to John to assist Donna out onto the pavement.

Looking back at them, he shook his head in consternation when John proudly took Donna’s hand, only to hesitantly drop it again once she was standing steadily next to him. What were they playing at, he wondered. 

“Here she is at last,” Linda Henry greeted the sight of her friend as they entered the pub. “I saved you a seat. Come and tell us how you got on today.” She then cast a meaningful glance towards John.

“Hey! Give the girl a chance,” Shane tried to halt her absence by protesting; but it didn’t work.

“Just get the drinks in, Richie. We’ve been waiting for you for ages,” Linda complained, and took possessive hold of Donna’s sleeve. She wanted to hear the juicy details, and she wanted to hear them NOW.

All John could do was look on with dismay. To cap it all, a young actress with long dark blonde hair sauntered up to him, and grinned as seductively as she could up at him. “Hello, I’m Jennifer Harwood. You’re John Smith,” she proclaimed confidently, as if he didn’t know who he was. “I’m going to be playing Sharon’s new babysitter. No doubt you’ll end up seducing me if things follow the normal pattern.”

“They might have that in the script,” he reluctantly agreed. He tried to sidestep the annoying grin on her face and get closer to Donna, but Jennifer was determined not to let him go just yet. “Sorry, but I wanted to…” Before he could completely shrug her off, he saw Linda leading Donna away.

“Tameka can’t wait to hear how filming went,” Linda congenially informed Donna, who had no choice but to dutifully go with her to the far end of the bar.

With an apologetic smile in his direction, John was left on his own to deal with this latest predicament.

To say he wasn’t pleased would have been an understatement. Ignoring the post-teen trying to keep his attention, John strode purposefully away, stormed into the men’s toilet and swore loudly once he was sure he was alone. “For f*cks sake!” he roared to nobody in particular, and thumped his fist against the tiled wall. Why him? Was it really too much to ask that he be alone with her away from prying eyes and actually have their date? 

“You alright, mate?” Shane asked him when he too entered the public convenience moments later. “You look as if something is bothering you.”

“No, I’m fine,” John lied. “Just a bit tired, that’s all.”

A slow teasing smirk spread across Shane’s face. “You weren’t going to finally make a move on Donna, were you?”

“What do you mean?” John gasped out in denial.

But Shane was waggling his finger knowingly in John’s face. “I’ve seen you, mooning after her when she’s not looking. Get in there, my son!”

Blushing profusely, John countered, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yeah, sure.” Shane laughed and let John leave the room. 

Back in the main bar, John wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself as he stood there or how to deal with this situation. “Is there a set finishing time for this?” he questioned Shane when he reappeared by his side.

“It’s booked until seven, but if you want to leave any earlier don’t let me stop you. Or were you expecting me to feed you as well?” Shane teased. 

“No, I erm…,” John blustered, suddenly at a loss for words. 

A drink was thrust into John’s hand. “Here you go, get that down you,” Shane ordered. “Aye aye, look sharpish, because I spy someone aiming straight for you.”

Following Shane’s head nod, John was not pleased to see that Jennifer was heading his way again, so he started to plan making his way over to Donna as surreptitiously as he could. He hadn’t made it too obvious he was avoiding the new girl, had he? She had all the makings of a future bunny boiler, that much was true, so he was keen to keep as much distance as possible. And judging by the experiences of friends, if he did make himself available to her, she would sell her ‘kiss and tell’ story to the newspapers at the first opportunity to the highest bidder. He could do well without all that. Instead, he needed someone less flighty in his life. Someone like Donna.

As the thought hit him he raised his head from supping his beer and gave her a smile across the room. She in turn immediately smiled back, as though they were co-conspirators. He found he rather liked the idea of them sharing a mutual secret; even if it was imaginary. 

“Why don’t you go over and speak to her,” Shane encouraged him, giving his shoulder a playful nudge. “Scoot over there while you can.”

“She looks busy,” John excused himself, suddenly feeling nervous of carrying out such an action in company.

“It’s only Linda and Tameka she’s talking to,” Shane countered, and turned to pick up two tea plates holding slices of cake. “I’ll look after your drink for you. Go on, take her a piece of my cake to eat.”

Having had his drink taken out of his hand and then forced to hold two plates, there wasn’t much John could do about it but go with Shane’s plan.

Nervously, he carried his precious cargo to where Donna sat with her friends.

Linda spotted him first, making his way towards them, and immediately stood up. “Here, John, sit yourself down here. I’m off to the lav.”

“I’ll come with you,” Tameka stated, also standing. “Then you can show me the thing you wanted to, that you mentioned earlier.” She pointed vaguely to her lower torso as though it meant something.

John innocently assumed that it did. Taking Linda’s now vacant seat next to Donna, he pleasantly informed her, “I brought you some of Shane’s cake. He insisted you try some.”

“Did he,” she softly retorted, taking the offered plate and revelling in his sudden nearness as he shifted his chair a bit nearer. “Thanks. It looks good,” she remarked.

“Wonderful,” he murmured still gazing at her in awe. If he had his way he would have delicately fed the cake to her and then make slow tender love with her all night. “Not quite the meal I had in mind for us.”

His emotions perked up when she proposed, “Perhaps we can get something on the way home.”

Grasping the opportunity, he leaned in to ask, “Do you fancy ordering something in? I’m starving but don’t feel like eating in a restaurant now.”

His warm brown eyes melted away any resolve she might have still had against the idea. “That sounds ideal,” Donna mumbled in agreement. Anywhere alone with him would be ideal as far as she was concerned. “Especially after our long day of filming.”

It took all his effort to wrench away his attention from her lips; the very lips that had been so deliciously on his earlier that afternoon. “Who would have thought spending all day in bed together could be so exhausting,” he risked joking.

“With all that body makeup.” She grimaced in remembrance. “Yuck!”

“I taste better without it.”

“You tart!” she admonished him with a laugh. 

“For you I can be anything,” he breathily vowed so that no one else could hear him. “So what do you say? Shall we get out of here?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” she quipped.

His answer was bring out his phone and ring for a taxi. Once done, he then used an app to order some food. Things were looking much better for them.

It hadn’t taken too long for a taxi to arrive; and judging by Shane’s face as he saw them sneaking out together, he wasn’t upset. Quite the opposite. In fact he was sure he was about to win the bet he had made with Linda and Tameka days if not weeks earlier. 

Having taken hold of her hand to lead her out, John wasn’t letting go of Donna yet. He had gained her address for the driver and their food order. It wouldn’t be long before they ate and could then concentrate on other things; like their raving desire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N2:** can I get away with finishing the story there? I suspect not…


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** seeing as I was encouraged to continue this, I almost managed to get them back into bed this chapter. Next time; I promise.

It was no good, John had to giggle with delight that they had finally managed to sneak away and be on their own together. Bubbling over with happiness, he grinned broadly at her as their made their way towards her front door. 

“This is nice,” he commented once they had made their way into the entrance hall. 

What he actually meant to say was how great he thought it was to be with her but there was still that bit of hesitation within him that this was a friendly non-date rather than the romantic one he’d longed for and dreamed about for weeks if not months. Then again, he’d always been tongue tied around her, too frightened to make a move let alone try to chat her up, so he’d done the next best thing. He’d ignored her. Not such a wise decision in hindsight, especially if it led to her thinking of him as nothing more than a work colleague, but it was too late now to rectify the first impression he had made. He could, however, attempt to change how she viewed him in the near future, if he played his cards right and didn’t act like a complete prat about it. 

“Do you like it?” Donna automatically ask as she flung her handbag down and started to take off her coat, indicating that he should follow suit.

Nodding, he mumbled, “Very much so.” 

Part of the mumbling was due to him suddenly getting the scarf around his neck caught up in a knot, so he fumbled with the material, trying to be as nonchalant about it as possible. He cautiously eyed her to see if she had noticed his mistake, but she was turned, hanging up her coat on the wall, so perhaps he had got away with it. 

Oh my word! Donna politely turned her back to him, taking her time hanging up her coat as she fought back a laugh at his clumsy antics. Could he be more adorable as he nervously tripped all over the place? It wouldn’t do to let him know how much he amused her or how much she genuinely wanted to grab him by his jacket lapels and snog the living daylights out of him that very second. Nuh uh! All they’d agreed to was a meal together and a truce while they shared romantic sex scenes in the storyline. For all she knew, he was only there out of duty to the role and didn’t like her particularly. 

Well, she **had** thought that, up until that day; but those kisses he given her when they’d been in bed filming the scene… they weren’t the normal ‘let me take your top lip hostage’ type of actor kisses. Definitely not. He’d put his heart and soul into those lip locks. Very method. And don’t get me started on all that breast fondling he’d done under the sheets where the camera couldn’t see. But the way he had placed his hands on her bare chest to save her dignity meant something more. He was a gentleman and a scholar of the first order. That sort of bloke didn’t grow on trees; no sir. Here he was, in her home, behaving as though she was special to him, and she was loving it! Every second. 

“Can I get you a drink while we wait for our meal to turn up?” she offered, walking straight into the kitchen and opening the fridge in invitation.

“What have you got?” he queried, stepping close to peer into the fridge next to her.

“I’ve got juice,” she listed, seeking out all the possible beverages, “juice, juice or even juice.” Damn! Why hadn’t she thought to ever get something else like beer or wine in to offer ~~him~~ a guest? Not that she’d thought of having him in her home except for a few times... Okay, make that five… ten… perhaps a couple of dozen times, but no more than that. “Or I can make tea,” she added apologetically.

He did his best to smile reassuringly. “I’ll have the erm, the juice for now, please. The er… the one at the back. The red one, whatever it’s called. Yes, that’s it, the mixed berry. Thanks.”

As she caught hold of the carton in question, the bottle to the side of it knocked forward and, to their joint horror, spilt an icy sticky liquid all down the front of her. 

“Oh!” she cried out in shock as the front of her suddenly became extremely cold and very transparent. 

He swore loudly, quickly followed by lots of “I’m so sorry” on repeat. “Look, you go and change, get out of that top; and I’ll deal with our meal when it turns up. Just leave it to me.”

“But you don’t know where anything is,” she feebly argued. It wasn’t as if she didn’t want to rush off and get out of her wet outfit; but she had to make a token protest for politeness’ sake.

John shooed her away. “I can find anything I need by opening a cupboard or, and here’s a really revolutionary idea, I can ask you if I have to.”

“Okay, I won’t forget this.” Donna flashed him her whimsiest grin and headed towards her bedroom.

Once out of sight of each other, she dashed up the stairs and raced into the bathroom, grabbing up soap and flannel to apply to her revealed sticky skin. She then perused her wardrobe for the ideal thing to wear to seduce him in. “Come on, make a decision,” she snapped at herself when her options seemed to be far too limited or ineffectual. 

A ring of the doorbell soon announced the arrival of their meal, so John had little chance to do much more than a quick recce of the kitchen cupboards and guiltily sip his fruit juice. Try as he might to do otherwise, his thoughts kept returning to the striptease followed by a fervent sponging down he knew was currently happening in the bathroom. 

Their meal arriving was a very welcome distraction for a few moments; and soon enough he insisting that a cleaned up Donna, in rather a fetching new top, go sit down and let him deal with setting up their meal as a suitable punishment for causing her distress. 

Breathe deeply, he told himself as he tried to take hold of his galloping emotions. The woman of his dreams, Donna Noble, was here mere feet away. He was with her in her house. She was sitting in her lounge, waiting for him to return from the kitchen with accessories for their meal. It had taken all his might not to pinch himself to check whether this was a hallucination. Humming gently to himself, he collected plates, cutlery, glasses, a bottle of wine, a corkscrew (because it’d be pretty hopeless without one) and some paper napkins, just in case. He wanted everything to be perfect and laid out the items with care onto a tray.

“Are you ready for me?” he called out to her and he shoved his way in through the entrance to the lounge.

“I think so,” she decided, giving the take away containers a slight adjustment on the coffee table in front of her before she spotted him struggling in whilst holding a large tray. “Oh! Let me help you,” she offered, starting to stand up.

“No need,” he manfully insisted, placing the tray expertly down onto the table near her. “I’ve got it covered. And look what I found,” he boasted, waving about a small bottle of wine. “I found it at the back of your cupboard.”

“Ooh,” she encouraged him, feeling impressed. “I didn’t know I had a bottle. You’re very talented, finding that.”

“Aren’t I just,” he boasted, placing the tray contents before her to show what a great provider he was. 

As he bent down low, his gaze accidentally landed on her cleavage; and he was instantly reminded of their earlier filmed scene, especially the bits when he had been fondling and tasting her flesh. Arousal soared through him at the memory and his desire to do so again, but without an audience to analyse his every move.

It was difficult not to notice that his eyes had wandered from her face, or the faint blush that immediately appeared there. But more than that, when she modestly averted her own gaze, the nearest thing to her eye level was the evident bulge within his trousers. Oh my! She had hoped he was interested, but there, before her very eyes, was clear proof that he was. A bit hard to miss in those tight trousers of his. Impressive even. She tried not to think of the enormous strain he must have been under when filming their bedroom scene if that was his reaction from getting a peek down her top. 

Suddenly the room felt awfully hot.

“You okay?” he wondered in concern as he sat next to her. He handed her a plate, and then offered her first choice from the containers in front of them.

“Yeah,” she weakly answered. “It’s been a while since I last ate properly. Feeling a bit faint, all of a sudden.”

“Oh no,” he murmured, and took her hand in comfort. “We’d better get something into you and solve that. If you still don’t feel well, I’ll help you to go and lie down on the bed upstairs.”

“Thank you. You’re very kind,” she gratefully acknowledged. She then thought how bad this must look to him, and giggled nervously. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

“Definitely not,” he denied. “You’re special. I hope you know that.”

His smile reassured her that his words were meant as a compliment. It certainly helped ease the atmosphere between them now that they had started to eat the delicious take away he had ordered. She took a welcome bite of her meal. 

“What does ‘special’ mean in this instance?” she teased. “One of the many females who you have invited onto a bed, no doubt.”

“No, no, no, no,” he hastily refuted. “Hardly anyone has even sat on a bed with me, let alone laid down on it. I leave the womanising to Simon DuBuerre, and pretty much keep myself to myself.” 

“Oh yeah?” she chided in disbelief. “What about all those women I see you pictured in the newspaper with? You’ll be telling me next they’re Scotch mist.” 

“Well….” He gave his neck a comforting rub. “In a way they are. It’s just paper talk. Completely made up. They bring up some model, stand her next to me, take photos, and the next thing I know, I’m supposed to be having a mad passionate affair with her. When I’m promoting EastEnders I let it be since it helps with Simon’s image, but I can’t say that I really like it on a day to day basis.”

“Pft!” she scorned him. “It must be so hard having some gorgeous young woman draping herself all over you.”

He chewed thoughtfully for some moments. How could he best describe it? “It is when it stops the woman you want from approaching you in the first place. Looks are nice, I agree, but I want someone who is beautiful on the inside as well as on the outside.”

“Good luck with that one,” she snorted into her mouthful of dinner. 

To her surprise, he shuffled slightly nearer. “I think my luck might be in,” he remarked. “Can I offer you some wine?”

“Just the one glass, thanks. I’ve got to spend tomorrow morning in bed with some bloke,” she sort of stated.

“Oh yes, anyone I know?” he joked.

“He’s just some long streak of nothing,” she playfully retorted. “Apparently he hates having model girlfriends.”

“Contrary to popular belief, not all of us are keen to date airheads,” he commented knowledgeably. “Personally, I’d much rather go for personality, especially if she’s beautiful and talented.”

“Does such a woman exist?” She tried to dismiss the excited tingling in her stomach as he gazed in her direction.

“I know she does,” he confidently assured her. He then quickly dabbed his face with a paper napkin, just in case he had left anything unwanted on his face. It wouldn’t do to turn her off by appearing slovenly.

Donna picked up her wine glass and silently encouraged him to clink glasses in a toast. “Here’s to finding talented beautiful people.”

Their eyes locked over the rim of their wine glasses as they sipped the wine. Both managed to hide a slight grimace. It wasn’t the best wine they’d ever tasted, but it would do for now; and it was only a half-bottle, thankfully.

The sound of a mobile phone announcing a text message tinged loudly, and they both dived to peer at the screens on their phones. 

“I’ve got a message from Dougie,” John stated in surprise.

“So have I,” Donna added. “It says they’ve got the first draft of our scene done, and there’s a link.”

John cast his eyes around her lounge. “Have you got a computer or something so we could look at it together without squinting at a small screen?”

“Yes,” she answered excitedly. “My computer is in the bedroom.” Oh! Should she be inviting him into her bedroom? It would be for an innocent cause, after all. 

“Then we’ll go and watch there,” he eagerly responded. And then his nervousness caught up with him. “If it’s okay with you, of course?”

“But the mess...,” she began to try and deter them by saying. “All these dishes.”

“We’ll clean up beforehand; no problem,” he brightly answered, and started to pick up their plates to carry back out to the kitchen. “I’ll wash, if you like. Won’t take us more than a couple of minutes.”

Him having said that, she felt less guilty about following him to carry out their cleaning task. The added bonus was working around each other in the kitchen, sharing such domestic chores with ease, before heading for the computer upstairs.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** time to reveal the crush, don't you think?

They were both perched on the corner of her bed, because there was only one usable chair to sit on, and she’d dumped a load of clean and ironed clothing on it minutes beforehand. It was fair, since they hadn’t had to fight over the usage of the chair, but also rather awkward to be this close to someone in the bedroom for any length of time. Making idle chitchat kept any embarrassment at bay for a while longer as they both pretended to want to be elsewhere. Sipping the end of their glasses of wine filled in the rest of the time as John wrestled with his desire to stare at her chest. He had to agree with himself that its magnificence had to be appreciated; especially considering how much he had previously lavished attention onto her bottom.

“I don’t get to use this very often,” Donna conversationally commented about her computer while they sat in front of it, patiently waiting for it to properly boot up.

“That’s the trouble, isn’t it,” John amiably agreed, “you tend to use your iPhone or iPad these days for most things.”

“But it’s still good to watch a film on the telly, or something like it.” She smiled whimsically. 

Leaning forward, he offered, “Do you want me to…?” He indicated towards the keyboard in explanation.

“Yes please,” she sighed with relief. 

At least this way if it went to the wrong website it wouldn’t be her fault. For once she shut up about her superior typing skills. Next time, she promised herself. That is, if there was a next time. 

John set his glass down in a safe place, consulted the text message they’d received, and tapped away on her keyboard. They waited with eager anticipation as the BBC logo popped up and the name of the production company appeared beneath it. So far so good. This meant they were in the right place. Any second now they’d be able to see the first draft of their sex scene.

As expected, the sound quality had a lot to be desired, seeing as it hadn’t been cleaned up yet; and they both made mental notes about recording certain pieces of audio later. But the soundtrack gave them the gist of how well the scene had gone. Quite well, considering how much panting and gasping was going on during the scene. 

“Not the sort of thing to watch with your mum, eh?” John laughed as the first shot showed his bare legs and hinted that the rest of him was equally naked.

“Definitely not,” Donna readily agreed. “Although my mum likes to have boasting rights where all this is concerned. She tells me that she’s informed all her friends in the Wednesday Girls that I’m having an affair with Simon DuBuerre.”

“Worth boasting about, am I?” he cheekily queried. 

“Give over, you tart,” she admonished him. “There’s my toe!” she squealed in recognition as the digit came into shot.

“That’s not all we can see,” he mumbled as more of her body was revealed. He then fidgeted, pulling down his sweatshirt, tugging at the hem in order to make sure that it covered anything incriminating.

It was no good; he decided he was going to have to risk it when the sight of her ample bosom filled the screen, held in place above his prone body by his hands. There was a reactive flex of his fingers as the desire to hold her again almost overwhelmed him. That wasn’t the only reactive flex, but he hoped he had hidden it by leaning forward and subtly bringing his knees up.

On the screen they kissed amorously, changing position while caressing flesh and undulating together. The room onscreen and off was filled with the sound of their lovemaking; the edit cuts doing their best to emphasise the passion of the moment.

Both Donna and John were transfixed as they watched, their cheeks pink with emotion, not daring to peek at each other’s reaction or even look away from the screen for a second. It was a well-worn personal fantasy, after all, so it was gratifying to see it played out.

“Oh! Ah, ah! Maggie, I’m close,” Simon grounded out through clenched teeth as he grunted above her body.

“Do it,” Maggie ordered, and pulled him back down to her in order to ravage his mouth.

The footage ended with both characters moaning loudly in ecstasy; and the two people watching from the end of the bed sat rather stunned in response. Their breathing had matched the characters’ on the screen, making any intelligible sound almost impossible for a moment or two. 

Donna was the first one to recover her voice, having tampered down a whimper as she remembered grasping his naked body closer. “That was steamy!” she remarked, fanning her hand about in front of her face.

“Yeah,” he faintly squeaked. “But I did something fatally wrong.” John felt it was just the right point to critique his performance. His motivation was to distract any attention away from his physical reaction to the ~~uplifting~~ sexy bedroom scene. Only luck had stopped him from following Simon into an embarrassing release.

Inevitably Donna asked, “What sort of thing?”

“I erm.. I’ll have to show you.” He apologetically smiled and brought up his hands. “Do you mind if I do?” When she moved her head to acquiesce, he gently placed his fingertips on her chin in order to tilt her face towards him. “If I was doing it properly, I wouldn’t have done this…” He fluttered his eyes closed and pressed briefly onto her lips. “…but added more tongue, like in real life,” he murmured before carrying out the difference.

Instantly, his mouth widened her lips and plunged his tongue into her mouth, gliding along her tongue before adding in some suction that drove all rational thought out from her head. It was a succulent deep kiss that ended all too soon. 

She blew out her cheeks, wondering how she could cover up her need to grab him back and continue sucking each other’s face. “You kiss your girlfriends like that?”

“I.. Not always,” he shyly admitted. “Not that I erm… have many, despite what the magazines and papers say.”

“Oh yeah??” she snorted in disbelief. Someone as good looking as him must have a waiting list of girls to be his girlfriend.

“Can I confess something?” he wondered. “They pay for escorts. This sounds awful, but they do it for publicity’s sake. I haven’t had a girlfriend; a real, proper girlfriend in ages.”

She would have chastised him for lying to her, but his expression was so sincere and apologetic. “Why not? It’s not as if you’d have any difficulty finding a volunteer.”

He wanted to laugh at her confidence in him. With a self-deprecating shrug, he revealed, “Because I’ve been sort of waiting.”

“Who for?” she teased. “Princess Charming?”

Yes, that was exactly it. Except that he couldn’t say that; not to her of all people. Blushing, he turned his head away slightly, and murmured, “Something like that.”

The penny dropped. “Do you have someone in mind? Someone you’re in love with,” she openly wondered, feeling her heart crush under the weight of this revelation. 

“No. Yes. I dunno,” he stammered.

“You don’t know. Come off it! Of course you know,” Donna argued, “especially during your personal time.”

Oh my lord! She wasn’t expecting to talk about when he wa…wank… was alone, surely? “Not necessarily.” The denial slipped off his tongue a lot easier than it did his face. The blush on his cheeks deepened to a crimson red that went all the way up to the tips of his ears. “It could be anyone. Even you,” he chanced saying, nervously glancing into her eyes.

“Me! Don’t talk wet,” she blustered. She wanted to believe that he used her in his own personal shower fantasies, would have been flattered if he did; but it was pushing it a bit far to think he was in love with her in particular. That sort of thing just didn’t happen.

Feeling bolder now, John asked, “Why not you?”

“Why not,” she echoed. “Because I’m Donna Noble, not Jennifer Harwood, or whatever Miss Blonde & Perky from earlier is called,” she defended herself by saying. “I mean, have you really looked at me?” There followed a sweep of her hands to draw his attention down her body. “This only gets the boobs some love, but the hair and the rest of me does me no favours.”

“Donna!” he cried out in despair. “That is not true. I happen to think you are…” He hastily bit his lip to stop the words spilling out.

“I’m what? The back end of a bus?” she dared him to accuse her of being.

“I…” He was so hurt by her lack of esteem, that she could think that she wasn’t attractive or worth loving. It was now or never. He HAD to tell her something of what he felt. “I think you are gorgeous,” he breathily confessed, adding in a gulp of much needed air. “You are so beautiful, you take my breath away.”

“You’re just saying that,” she feebly denied.

“No I’m not.” After a few more sucked in breaths, he took her hand in his. “I might be ballsing this up between us but I’ve got to say it while I have the chance. Please believe me when I say that you mean a great deal to me.”

“How much?” she asked, expecting him to spout on about working relationships despite also dreading it.

“The thing is, I’m in love with you. No, please, listen to me,” he begged as she started to baulk at that. “I’m not asking that you feel anything for me in return, but you need to know that I want you in any way that you are prepared to offer. Be that as friends, lovers, or more. I just want to be with you.” Still feeling bold, he added in a small kiss onto the inside of her wrist. “These last few weeks have been brilliant; the best days of my life, getting to know you more personally.”

“You can’t get more personal than having your hands on my chest,” she joked to mask her nervousness; and then bit her lip. 

“Very personal,” he agreed, releasing her hand to let it drop onto his shoulder as his own hand moved to her waist. “But with your permission I’d like to get more intimate. So what do you say? Is there a chance that you could learn to like me in return? There’s no hurry if you need time to think it over. I can wait,” he quickly added when she seemed to hesitate.

“Do you know what you are?” she questioned him, and inwardly smirked when he shook his head. His eyes were large and full of fear; making such a tease far too easy. “You are a big dumbo for even thinking I’d turn you down.”

Relief and realisation hit him. “You’ll go out with me?” he tremulously asked. 

“I’ll do more than that, if you want,” she answered, easing forward to press her lips against his. “But before we allow this to go any further I need to know if you have a condom.” 

“Condom!” he anxiously repeated, pulling hastily and instantly away from her to pathetically pat at his pockets. “I think I’ve got one. Now where did I put it? Come on, come on, think. I know! It’s down in my coat. Won’t be a minute,” he cried before leaping off the bed and running out the door.

Donna watched him go, dumbstruck for a second. “I only wanted to know because otherwise I’ve got some,” she mumbled to the empty room. Smiling fondly at the sound of him fumbling about downstairs, she sat up and removed her boots; placing them neatly by the side of the bed.

“Come on, where are you?” John asked the little packet he knew he had once secreted in his coat pocket; his frustration rising. Getting to the inner pocket that usually held his credit cards and pulling out the contents, he cried in joy, “Found you!” 

He then pressed a grateful kiss onto the sealed condom and raced back up the stairs. Seconds later he burst into the main bedroom. “I got one. It was hidden right at the bottom of…” The sentence trailed off as his eyes grew wide in excitement at the sight before him. Without thought, he dropped the condom onto the nearest flat surface.

Standing in the middle of the room was a bare foot Donna with her hands resting on the bottom hem of her top. Keeping her eyes firmly fixed on him so that she knew he was watching, she pulled up the hem until the garment was off her body, exposing her bra, and framing her figure beautifully by holding her arms above her head. She then threw the folded up top then onto the floor. “I thought I’d get things started,” she told him, loving his startled expression. “Why don’t you take your shoes off?”

He’d been too busy admiring this goddess in front of him to notice her question. “My…? Oh yes,” he faintly answered, and leant down to undo the laces on his Converses. 

She watched with amusement as he danced about, trying to undo the knots he’d made, before failing to tug the shoes off his feet. “Damn! Blast! Argh!” he yelled out as he avoided swearing in her presence. 

“You are allowed to sit on the bed and do that, you know,” she reminded him as she covered a laugh. Waiting until he had successfully removed his Converses, she went back into seductive mode and moved towards him. “I could help undress you, if you like?” 

“What?” He had been busy removing his sweatshirt, so he was surprised to find her almost hovering over him. Those breasts of hers were practically in his face. Sitting up and begging him, they were, over the lacy edging of the top of her bra. Swallowing down a refusal, he distantly replied, “Any help would be nice.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I would have added in a bit more but I'm feeling like crap, so I'll try and put the extra bits into the next part (if that makes any sense. In my head it does... but then it's a war zone in there right now).

Donna’s lips landed on John’s at exactly the same time as her fingers began to tackle the belt at his waist. It was a delicious kiss that he happily groaned into. But when he reached out to pull her onto his lap, she resisted the invitation. 

Emboldened by his reaction to her, she took charge of the situation. “Stand up and we’ll get these things down,” she ordered from next to his mouth.

He readily complied, enjoying the feeling of her fingertips easing down his zip. How he didn’t cum right then and there into her hand was by sheer willpower alone. It wasn’t only his trousers that were completely undone in that moment. “Oh yes,” he involuntarily moaned as his trousers slid down to hit the carpet and her hand fondled the front of his boxer shorts. A quick flick of her wrist and he’d be free of the garment without any effort. “Yes,” he gasped again. 

The urge to explore him was irresistible. Donna had seen him naked before earlier in the day, but not fully erect like this. Her hand thoughtfully caressed the length of him, learning its weight and size, mesmerised by the silky smoothness of his skin. Before she was even aware of the thought, she had bent down and kissed his warm shaft.

“Nnnnnargh,” he panted. “I’m going to cum if you keep doing that.”

“Oops!” she cheekily exclaimed, releasing her gentle hold on him and standing up straight. “And here’s me still in my clothes. I’d better take these off.” With that, she stepped away, turned, and undid her own trousers, wriggling them down off her hips before bending to extract them from they’d bunched at her ankles.

The sight of her lace clad behind was too much for John. What he wanted and where he yearned to be was right there in front of him in clear sight. He had to touch her; confirm that she was real. He couldn’t stop himself from lunging forward, wrapping his arms around her body, crushing her bottom to his front, his hands possessively on her breasts as his mouth found her neck to kiss with devotion. “I want you. God, how I want to make love to you. So much,” he murmured into her flesh through loving touches.

The temptation was to let him do so then and there, but experience told her that comfort would aide their enjoyment even further. “You will,” she readily promised, slowly turning within his embrace to face him. 

Threading her fingers through his hair, she brought his head back down so that she could kiss him, opening at the touch of his tongue to mouth him with passionate gasps. When his hands stroked down her back to land on her behind, she felt the urge to grind herself on the hardness that poked insistently to be let in. 

It was so easy to lose herself in this moment, in him, as desire flared between them. Every sense was focused on where they wanted to be joined and where they already shared their passion in undulating sweeps of lips and tongues. Soon her bra had been undone and tossed aside, leaving him free to explore her tender flesh as he cupped a breast. When his thumb found a nipple to caress her desire soared, and would have been happy to let him take her onwards; until she took the decision to break away from him. It would be difficult to do that standing in the middle of the bedroom, she reasoned.

“Let’s move this to somewhere more comfortable,” she huskily suggested, and led him the short distance to the bed; encouraging him to lie down while she shimmied out of her lacy knickers.

John watched her become completely naked, with no physical restrictions between them, with surging glee. “Good move,” he approved, smirking as he viewed her progress towards him on the covers. She looked gorgeous as she brought her body close for him to appreciate with his senses. A thought struck him, and he reached out with a finger to stroke her intimately with concern. “Are you okay to do this? Not sore after having to wear that modesty tape?”

“I’m fine,” she reassured him, enjoying his touch. “If I can cope with them having to wax me, a little bit of tape shouldn’t be too much trouble.” She knelt on the bed, straddling his thighs as his fingers continued an intimate dance to stimulate her flesh delicately in an arousing caress. “What about your little fella? Any permanent damage been done to it by being tied up all day?”

“Erm...” He gazed down at his bobbing erection. “Not from what I can tell but I might need you to test drive it. Talking of which…” His expression instantly went contrite. “The condom, I’ve left over there by the door. Sorry.” 

She answered his anxious demeanour by smiling confidently, and leaned over to slide open a drawer in the nearest bedside cabinet. “Good job I’ve got some much nearer then isn’t it.”

A broad relieved smile broke out across his face. “You really are perfect,” he complimented her with deep sincerity.

“Careful, mate, otherwise I’ll think you’ve seriously gone off your rocker, saying such things to me,” she modestly batted away his words. “Now how do you want to do this? Me or you?” she wondered, holding up an unopened sachet.

“I’d better,” he replied, taking the condom from her fingers. “You’re much too likely to make me blow early if you put it on me, and we can’t have that, can we? It’d spoil all our fun.”

“Depends,” she countered, watching him roll the product on, eager to clamber onto him. “I doubt either of us will last long.”

“We can but try. Can I just say, Donna, that I never thought you’d want me like this,” John sweetly crooned, cupping her face as she eased her body over his hips. 

She leaned forward to mock him, “You don’t know the half of it, John. But all these compliments. Are you part Irish or did you swallow the blarney stone?”

“You’re sitting on my blarney stone,” he quipped from next to her mouth. He had long sussed out her humour distraction tactic, and let her take possession of his mouth. His hands on her buttocks helped guide her body down to where they both wanted her to go.

“I’ve heard of talking out of your backside but that’s ridiculous,” she teased him. “Unless you are still wearing that sock puppet you had on earlier.”

“You already know what I’m wearing on it,” he retorted. Their position wasn’t quite right yet. “Just move… a little bit to the… Ah, that’s it. Perfect.” He slid in without any problem and gasped at how delicious she felt. 

She had to admit that it felt pretty much perfect to her too from where she was. 

John could feel his climax beckoning, urging him to completion as he fought desperately not to end things right now. Frantically reciting any list he could think of in order to hold back the inevitable, something equally bizarre and annoying happened.

The phone rang. Both their phones rang in quick succession.

When the first ringtone sounded loudly, they both were so startled they slid right off the bed with a thump. They gazed at each other in shock as they landed, still joined, in a heap on the floor, Donna on John’s lap.

“Who the hell is that?” John demanded having cursed at the interruption. 

Donna plucked up her phone from where it had laid in her trouser pocket. “It was Dougie. What about you?” she asked as he peered at his own phone.

“The same,” John supplied. “No doubt he wanted to know what we thought about the sex scene. But I refuse to let that prat ruin this moment between us.”

“You mean you don’t want to stop doing this,” Donna retorted, and wriggled teasingly upon his lap.

He immediately let out an amorous moan. “Do that again,” he begged. But her body swung enticingly close that he had to first kiss her lips before heading downwards to suckle her flesh. Yet it still wasn’t enough for his desire, so he ceased thrusting upwards to move her whole body, his hands firmly grasping her bottom. “I need more,” he gasped out as he propelled her upwards and back onto the bed, getting her to lie flat on her back. “Oh yes,” he groaned, curling over her torso to worship her breasts with his mouth.

“Oh yes,” she agreed, and raised her knees in order to wrap her legs possessively around his waist, urging his thrusts to continue at the same pace. “Yes!”

Her orgasm was building; his now frantic piston action adding to the thrill as they neared completion. Grunts, moans and groans became their language of verbal communication while their bodies sang a different duet.

“Donna,” he breathily confessed, “there’s something I have to tell you.”

“Tell me,” she warbled, not expecting much; but her concentration was on something else entirely.

“I… I…” As he reached his peek, John cried, “I love you! Oh God, oh God, you’re fantastic.” 

“What?” she panted. “What did you say?”

“You’re fantastic,” he repeated, rolling to the side of her to remove the used condom and dispose of it, once he had located a convenient bedside bin. Throwing himself back down onto the bedcovers, he grinned at her with satisfaction. “You really are,” he assured her, in case she was in any doubt, before kissing her in gratitude. 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she coyly complimented him, and shuffled nearer to cuddle into his body when he lifted an arm in invitation. “Are we pretending you didn’t say that other thing? Because we both know you didn’t mean it.”

“Well… erm…” He drew in an embarrassed breath. “Yeah, alright then,” he decided somewhat reluctantly.

“John,” she began, lifting up on one elbow to gain direct eye contact, “you don’t have to lie to me, or make rash declarations. Honest you don’t. You fancied me, and I fancied you. It’s as simple as that.”

With a tender sweep of his fingers to move a strand of hair from her face, he reasoned, “I don’t think it is. Not for me. Today has been brilliant, getting to know you more intimately. And you’re quite a good shag too.” That gained him an expected swat on the arm. “This with you could go far, don’t you think. Or am I the only one that feels that way?”

“No, you’re not,” she admitted, caressing his shoulders in similar tender sweeps to his touches on her skin. “Now don’t get big headed but I’d been longing to talk to you properly for ages, and now I’ve finally got my chance.”

He kissed her then; a tender press of lips to express his respect and growing love for her. “Aren’t we ridiculous? Like love shy teenagers. I can’t remember being this daft in years. But it’s been worthwhile because I’m here with you.”

It would have been rude not to snog him passionately after such a declaration, so she did; with everything she had. 

“Shall we get ready for bed?” she offered. “I’ve got a new spare toothbrush somewhere.”

He smiled in sheer delight. “Good idea,” he replied, and they shared a brief hug that promised a night time of cuddling together.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** sorry for the long delay in updating this - it was written but not posted. There will be a small epilogue to finish off the story.

She was woken by a hand snaking across the sensitive flesh of her breast. Half in the world of dreams, it took her a moment to recognise whose touch it could be. Once she did, a triumphant grin threatened to split her face in two. 

Obviously he now knew she was awake; because his fingers caressed a trail that glanced over her nipple, and then came back to properly tease her flesh into arousal, sending bolts of desire much lower. Soon she was wriggling against his body, wanting more as she pushed her bottom backwards onto him in invitation.

Then his kisses landed on her neck in an all-out assault on her senses. Her traitorous body responded instantly when he wove his free hand through to land where he could intimately stroke her; pressing and tweaking in synch with the rest of his fingers.

There was nothing that could stop her quest to get him exactly where she wanted him. Moving a hand carefully behind her, she easily caught hold of his erection that was prodding the back of her thigh with interested anticipation. He groaned into her shoulder, his hot breath puffing along her collar bone. As her fingertips teased the end, spreading the pre-cum she found there, he shuddered and dipped his finger low between her folds.

“Is that where you want me?” he huskily asked before returning to caress her clit.

“Yes,” she gasped; wanting, needing him to fill her as mounting pleasure beckoned under his teasing touch.

His body shifted behind her, and for a moment she thought he was going to enter her from behind; but he stopped suddenly. “I erm… I need another condom otherwise I’m liable to do this as I am. And we don’t want that sort of accident.”

“Oh. Right,” she agreed, breaking out of her aroused bubble to seek out a condom from her bedside drawer. “The last thing we need is for me to fall pregnant from a one night stand.”

When she turned to hand him the condom, he was sitting back on his ankles, gawping at her in shock. “Who said this is only a one night stand?” he demanded, taking the sachet from her outstretched hand. “Is that what you think I am?”

“Isn’t it?” she pathetically reasoned. “I mean…” Her hands flailed about. “You’ve satisfied your curiosity by sleeping with me, so I thought you’ll probably…” There was a gesture of her fingers walking away, followed by a self-deprecating shrug. “I wasn’t expecting more, despite all the fine words you spouted last night.”

His expression softened as he viewed her personal angst written clearly across her face. How could he not love this woman? She brought out every protective fibre in his being, making him want to cuddle her tight against all the hurtful things that must have happened to her. She also made him want to laugh at all her silly jokes, and make equally daft ones in return. But most of all, he still wanted to shag her like crazy. In short, he loved this beautiful woman, flaws and all. 

“I haven’t satisfied my curiosity yet,” he gently insisted. “There’s so much more to discover. I don’t know what it’s like to wake up and make love to you whenever I want, how you feel in my arms on a rainy day, and most of all, whether or not you really are rubbish at cooking breakfast,” he finished with a tease. 

It gained the pleased smile he wanted.

“Then in that case,” she said, turning properly to straddle his thighs, and wrapping her arms around his shoulders in order to press a kiss onto his lips, “we have a lot of ground to cover.”

“We do,” he agreed, happily returning the kiss. Good; he could get back to trying to give her the best sexual experience possible. The last thing he wanted was to scare her away, and out of his life. 

“Maybe I’ll leave cooking breakfast for quite a while,” she considered between kisses.

“Good idea,” he breathed. “I’ll start by eating you and we’ll work our way towards other stuff.”

Before she could ask what that might be, he toppled them sideways and covered her body with his own in order to devour first her mouth, and then later the rest of her in tender loving sweeps. 

 

Later, as they lay sated with pleasure, John thought to remark, “We didn’t phone Dougie back and tell him what we thought of yesterday’s scene.”

“Why don’t you phone him while I’m in the bathroom,” Donna suggested, “and I’ll do the same when you’re eating during breakfast.”

He kissed her languidly. “What happens if I fancy being in the bathroom with you? It could complicate things.”

“It could,” she agreed, “because I’ll be in the shower ignoring any thought of Dougie.”

“How about I join you in there?” he proposed. “Complicating things might be a lot of fun.”

“You’ll get me into trouble,” she mock griped.

“Trouble is the object of the exercise,” he leered, taking a firm grip of her bottom to pull her possessively against his torso. “I fancy aiming for a hat trick. Ever done it in the shower?”

“No,” she responded between passionate kisses, “but you’re slowly persuading me to try.” 

“Then give me a second and I’ll get right onto it,” he happily replied. 

 

Sex in the shower didn’t turn out quite to be the sexual delight they had anticipated. For a start, the water kept coming through cold, making Donna shriek as John tried to hold her close, and then it spluttered pathetically, thus preventing any time spent under the shower head from not being a complete waste of time. But they did make it back to the bedroom all clean and willing to be towelled off by each other as they giggled continuously at their ludicrous situation. 

“Oh look. A freshly caught Donna,” John joked as he unwrapped the soft bath towel from her body. “All ready to be kissed by me. Every single inch.”

She gleefully watched as his attention switched from her lips to her scented skin. He swept his mouth over her breasts, taking great delight in tasting her voluptuous flesh before heading southwards; down her stomach, across her hips. Seconds later he gently pushed her onto her back to give him access once he’d parted her knees, to place tender kisses on her inner thighs. Soft puffs of breath were driving her crazy with want; and then he was stroking her with one inquisitive finger, opening her further to his gaze.

“Yes, oh yes,” she murmured when his tongue peeked out and pressed down intimately. 

Her groans increased as he licked a tortuous path before suckling her aroused flesh. This was obviously something he cherished doing, and his eager lips, tongue and teeth sought out her flesh to tease her clit to reach new sensual heights. Then one finger entered her, closely followed by another, crooked to seek out a bundle of nerves that made her whimper with the sensation of being urged on by him. It was all too much, and she loudly cried out as a delicious wave of completion tore through her body, causing her to jerk and writhe under his expert guidance.

The look of lust on his face when he lifted his head to peer at her with supreme smugness made her want to shag him until midnight. “Come here, you,” she ordered him, reaching out to draw his body closer. “I want you right now.”

“Hang on…” He pulled away briefly to open the drawer and grab another condom. He kept his dark eyed gaze fully on her as he carefully rolled it on. “Do you still want me?” he huskily asked.

When she nodded, he surged forward and immediately filled her; setting a fast pace from the very start. Placing his hands either side of her head on the bed, he raised his torso up so that the angle of his body hit every sweet spot of hers accurately as he slid in and out. He had obviously aroused himself as much as he had her, and he couldn’t wait any longer. 

“I’m going to cum,” he panted. “God, you’re beautiful. One look from you and I’m almost there.” Hearing her moan, he added, “Cum for me. You can do it. Right there. Yes. Yes.” A strident bellow from her was exactly what he wanted to gain as she tightened around him, and he pummelled into her with more fervour. “Arghhhhh!” he warbled as his orgasm hit, timing his release with hers almost perfectly; happening just after hers. “Shit! I’ve never done it three times like that before,” he proudly gasped. 

“A new record,” she teased as he collapsed onto her.

“Thanks to you,” he puffed out. “I’m well and truly knackered now, but it’s totally worth it.”

“Aww, you say the sweetest things,” she stated, rewarding him with a kiss.

“You’d better get used to it, because I intend to do a lot more.” He then went suddenly coy. “Are you alright with that?”

“Very alright,” she assured him. “And there’s one other thing I have to say to you.”

“Oh?”

“Dougie,” she triumphantly trilled.

“Oh shit! I forgot to phone him,” John declared, throwing himself towards his phone, and making a hasty grab for it. “We’ll never hear the end of it if we don’t give him an opinion.” 

Watching him make the call, Donna mentally rehearsed her own version of the conversation with Dougie.

 

They had gone to great pains to try and appear as though they hadn’t travelled the whole way to work together, feigning having met up in the foyer. No touching, no lingering looks, and definitely no public kissing, they had decided. But it had been torture to carry out the plan as they walked along together, holding matching cups of coffee. They were professional actors, they had reminded themselves; they could act in love and equally as powerfully, disinterest. Their confidence was quite high as they entered the television studios building.

Yet as soon as they had reached the first dressing room, John had silently pulled Donna inside and into his arms to kiss her farewell for the day; as though they were entering a school classroom and would be punished for fraternising. 

“Don’t. Not here,” she had begged, even though she had readily returned his passionate kiss.

“I can’t help myself,” he confessed. “We’ll have to tell everyone soon.”

“Soon,” she agreed, “but let’s have some more private time between ourselves before they all have to know and spoil it.” Seeing the glint in his eyes, she retorted, “Not that sort of private! You are deliberately misunderstanding me.”

“And what if I am?” he defended himself. “Now kiss me goodbye, as I have a long time to wait until we can do this again.”

After another tender kiss, they parted and headed towards the makeup department, content in thinking that their secret was safe, for now.

“Did you see John sneaking in with Donna this morning?” Shane asked Linda as he sipped his cup of morning brew in the canteen.

“Yeah,” she acknowledged. “Do they really think we haven’t noticed? “

“Yes, and let’s keep it that way,” Shane suggested, and winked at her conspiratorially. “We wouldn’t want to upset love’s young dream, would we?”

“Definitely not.”

   


Feeling rather apprehensive, Donna and John were called to stand on the edge of the set, to await their cue to go and take up their positions as Maggie Postlethwaite and Simon DuBuerre. 

This was it. As far as they were aware, this was their very last scene for their affair. It was supposed to be the morning after their night of passion, and according to the script, they got caught in bed sleeping together by Shirley Carter.

Maggie Postlethwaite wasn’t overly concerned about her best friend’s reaction, since she’d been nothing but encouragement in the days leading up to her birthday makeover, but the key thing was Simon’s reaction to being discovered in bed with her. Would he see this encounter as a complete embarrassment or the start of something meaningful? Only time, viewer feedback and the writers’ intentions would tell. 

But all of that was for another day, and a different writers’ meeting, no doubt. Today was their last scene clasping each other closely in bed in a state of undress; to put it mildly. At least this time both Donna and John would be allowed to keep on key underwear, since this scene would definitely appear pre-watershed for family viewing. 

The good news for Donna was that this was definitely not the last time she would share a bed with John. Most assuredly not. He’d vowed that they would return there after another, proper date, unheeded by other members of the cast. By hook or by crook. 

Standing behind the scenery, Donna was feeling a little bit nervous but her confidence soared as soon as John appeared clad in a dressing gown. He instantly gave her a consoling squeeze around the waist; adding in a risky kiss to her forehead at the same time. 

If he was discrete no one would be aware that they had spent most of the night before in bed together, or that a good proportion of that had been spent making love. A very good proportion. Brilliant in fact, he thought. Given the choice, they would have continued their loving tryst all of the day as well. 

It was hell to stand next to her and not be able to re-live the moment. In fact, he wanted to shout about it from the rafters, telling them he was with the woman he loved, finally. But they’d decided to keep things concealed for the time being to stop the gossip mongers from spoiling their carefully constructed loving bubble. 

Still, he couldn’t resist a tease. “Looking forward to being back in bed with me?” he asked her quietly. 

“Just as much as you wanting to put your hands all over me,” she countered in low tones.

He licked his lips in remembrance. Oh yes. That aspect was _very_ tempting, he had to admit. “We all know which bit of me you can’t wait to touch again,” he whispered cheekily directly into her ear.

Inevitably she swatted his arm. “Yeah because your tongue doesn’t have ambitions of its own,” she almost mouthed at him, her voice was so quiet.

There was nothing he could say to deny that, but he did blush quite prettily.

Luckily, having to be professional soon kicked in, and they were able to complete their scene. But just for a laugh, when Shirley discovered Maggie in bed with Simon, Donna gave his bottom a surreptitious pinch; just because.  


	11. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** this contains mentions of a real, much-loved interviewer.  
>  **A/N2:** I found this on my hard drive and thought I might as well post it, as I won't do anything more to it now.

Epilogue

Whilst John and Donna’s relationship grew from strength to strength over the coming weeks, the writers were playing a much different game, thanks to the audience reaction to the all but too brief Simon/Maggie affair. They made Simon move onto another girl, leaving Maggie heartbroken. 

“He’s left me, Shirl,” Maggie was heard to wail to her best friend. “Told me I was too good for him.”

It made Shirley all the more determined to get back the man her friend loved for her. They belonged together, despite him getting cold feet and doing a runner. 

In a rebound reaction, Maggie allowed herself to fall under the attention of a new male character who appeared in Albert Square one rainy day and soon began to woo her over a cup of tea in the café. He was the manager of Bridge Street market; a quiet unassuming man, with a fondness for tank tops and his clipboard. Quite quickly, he fell for her modest charms and ended up begging Maggie to marry him. 

Torn between her love for Simon and her need for someone to offer affection, she accepted the proposal of Tom Boreham. The fact that she was about to become homeless might have had some influence on the matter. But she was shocked when Tom rushed her to set a wedding date to avoid them living in sin, and soon found herself with a booked church and a wedding dress to scrabble around to find.

Shirley had entered the R&R club in Turpin Road when it was empty and was delighted to find Simon arranging things behind the bar. “Oi, you!” she called out. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the wedding?”

“What wedding?” Simon innocently wondered, giving a glass a quick wipe with a tea towel. “Who’s getting married?”

“Maggie, of course, you plum,” she replied. “Where have you been?!”

He paled. “Maggie?” he faintly repeated, almost dropping the glass in his hands. “My Maggie? But… but… Who is she marrying? I didn’t even know…,” he faltered and then sucked in a breath. “I knew she was hanging about with that new market manager but I didn’t think it was serious.”

“Well, you do now,” Shirley gleefully informed him, leaning forward onto the polished surface of the bar. “What was she supposed to do now that her landlord is kicking her out of her place?”

“Not marry the first bloke that offers her a bed to sleep in,” he angrily commented.

“Yeah, well, not every bloke thinks sleeping in a bed leads to marriage or an offer,” she countered. “You know that, seeing as you couldn’t wait to get rid of her.”

His head didn’t know whether to nod or shake his agreement. “But she loves him, right? As long as she’ll be happy.”

“You carry on thinking that,” Shirley added. “She’ll have somewhere to lay her head, so that’s all that matters. And Tom will get someone to cook, clean and wait on him.” She then gave a sniff, turned and eyed him suspiciously. “Anyway, what do you care? Come two o’clock she’ll be walking up the aisle at the local church and whisked off to spend her honeymoon in a caravan in Clacton.”

His nose scrunched up in disgust. “Clacton! She deserves more than that.” 

“Maybe,” she agreed, “but Maggie never gets what she deserves. If you fancy going to the church to give her a decent gift, I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.”

“Sure,” he mumbled, now deep in thought.

When Shirley walked back out of the club, he hardly noticed at all. His thoughts were somewhere else entirely. 

Cue Simon coming to his senses, a relieved Shirley assumed as she hurried away. She wanted to be in a good position to see him rushing to the church to proclaim his love and stop Maggie from marrying the wrong man.

 

Charlie’s black taxi cab drew up outside the church without any fanfare or ceremony. Apart from Jay Brown, who had kindly offered to take some photos for her, nobody was stood waiting. 

A hesitant Maggie climbed out, thanked Charlie for driving her there, and then smoothed down the bargain wedding dress she had bought from the charity shop for only £7. It would do, she had repeatedly told herself. Jean Slater had given her a small bunch of flowers to hold as her wedding bouquet, and Ian Beale had stepped in to give her away, seeing as she had no close relatives. Well, none that the scriptwriters had given her yet. Only time would tell. 

“You look lovely,” Ian had kindly said as he took her arm. “Tom is a lucky man.”

Maggie gave him a wan smile. It was on her lips to protest that Tom was hardly lucky to get her. She was second-hand goods after all, and not the pure virgin he thought she was. His luck was that he hadn’t heard any rumours about her and Simon. 

It was a very small affair. From the church doorway, she could see that only a few people had turned up to see the wedding. A fact that didn’t surprise her at all. The one person she had wanted to see wasn’t there; he would never have appeared, she told herself. It proved how little he really cared about her. 

Just as a sob welled up and threatened to spill out, a voice shouted her name from outside. Her head whipped round to see if it really was him or if she had merely imagined it. 

But there he was, panting with the effort of running all the way from the nearby car park. “Maggie, you can’t do this,” he proclaimed. 

“I can’t?” she feebly enquired. “Why not?”

“What are you playing at?!” Tom demanded to know as he raced down the aisle towards them.

Simon held up his hand to halt Tom’s progress. “This is between me and Maggie,” he insisted. “IF she marries you she has to do it for the right reasons.” Simon then tenderly reached out and took Maggie’s hands within his own. “What do you say, Maggie? Do you want to marry him or would you rather have me? I’ve booked us on a flight to Las Vegas and we can get married straight away.” She let out a tiny squeak of surprise. “Just you and me, in a luxury hotel,” he continued. “You won’t want for anything, I promise. So what do you say?” 

“But… the wedding,” she floundered, looking towards Tom and back again. The sight of Shirley grinning at her in encouragement did a lot for her senses. 

“I love you,” Simon quietly confessed, “and I know I should have said that before, but I didn’t know you’d go and do all this.” He waved a hand to indicate the church ceremony. “You should have come to me; I’d have put a roof over your head.”

“You love me?” she sought to confirm. “You’d better not be doing this for a bet.”

“Never!” he vowed. Bringing up a hand to tenderly caress her cheek, he repeated, “I love you. And I’m sure you feel something for me. Will you marry me?”

With tears in her eyes, she fervently nodded. “Yes. Yes please.”

The doof doof that day had many viewers happily grabbing the tissues to wipe their eyes. Ah, what a beautiful thing. 

 

The telephone lines were chock a block full of people calling the BBC to praise the scene and the decision to give Maggie back to Simon. It was all over the newspapers the following day, that common sense and love had triumphed in the story line. And like all the best soaps, the jilted groom was soon forgotten. Their loss didn’t matter at all in the grand scheme of things. 

A special DVD of the wedding scene and the sequel shot supposedly in Las Vegas, but actually in a studio in Borehamwood, was soon released for the fans to indulge every second in. 

It was during an interview with Philip Schofield on ITV’s “This Morning” to promote the DVD that John made his ‘fatal’ slipup. 

“So how do you and Donna get on when you are away from the set?” Philip had asked John.

After exchanging a fond look with Donna, John had confessed, “Very well. Well enough to be planning our own wedding.”

“Is this true?” a delighted Philip had aimed at Donna. 

“Oh yes,” she eagerly confirmed. “John asked me, and I said ‘yes’.” 

The relief and joy at finally being able to reveal their own plan to marry each other was wonderful; thus thrilling fans old and new.

The interview ended with Philip cheekily asking, “Will you ever be tempted to dress up like Simon and Maggie at home?”

Donna grinned at John first before answering, “Only if I can apply the mop to him first.”

The sight of Philip Schofield doubled up in laughter would stay with her for an awfully long time; and he would dredge the film footage up whenever he subsequently interviewed her as part of her continuing publicly awarded comedy work.


End file.
